


The Urge Notorious

by muse51



Series: The Urge Series [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Comedy, F/M, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-06-05 20:39:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 25,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15178886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muse51/pseuds/muse51
Summary: Are Hermione and Severus only together because of the Wizarding game consequence pushing them together or are there real feelings involved? Sparks and explosions result from an unforgettable night at the theater. Naturally, well-meaning friends and Rita Skeeter complicate things along the way. Can the Board save the day or make it worse?





	1. Need

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to That Certain Urge. Please read that before reading this one.
> 
> I've rewritten this story several times. I'm posting a few chapters at a time.
> 
> Thanks to Havelocked. I got some new perspective after her comment on That Certain Urge. 
> 
> Happy Reading!

The house elves avoided him at all cost while certain female staff members vied with each other to see who among them could provoke him best, morning, noon and evening. Caught in the middle of it all was one Severus Snape - bedeviled, bothered and by now borderline berserk. The irony of it all was that he had never been happier in his life.

On his way to lunch in the Great Hall, he thought of the many things he had to be happy about. Voldemort had been defeated over the summer ending his double life and clearing his name and honor. Neville Longbottom had left the premises. No successor was in sight to inherit his crown nor threaten his record streak of 32 total melted cauldrons. Even better, Harry Potter was no longer about to remind him of past indiscretions while the remaining Weasley was nothing like her brothers. Best of all, Slytherin was once again ahead in the points standing. Without the last day extra points generated by Potter's timely Quidditch heroics or Granger's astronomical grades, Slytherin winning the house cup this year was a near certainty.

But in his heart of hearts he knew the one thing that made him happiest was belonging to someone who understood him and, more importantly, whom he understood, the aforementioned Hermione Granger. The war had brought them closer not driven them apart as he had feared. With her, he found he could be himself without fear of rejection or misunderstanding.

"Belong to her? My boy, you are her abject slave and lust object. No need to romantically sugarcoat it." Said Board Member number one who liked to be called The Gent or Gent for short.

Board member number two, also known as Prat, added "But I'm not complaining. If anything, we should leave this madhouse and stay with her permanently."

"Bad idea. No, our encounters should stay as they are - hot, sweaty and multi-orgasmic fun and games. I'm not ready for the ball and chain just yet, thank you very much." Offered Board Member number three who went by the sobriquet of Wolf.

Severus Snape was considered to be many things but insane was not one of them at least not by established standards. The Board members were his inner voices who advised him on all matters. Their advice was always unsolicited, unhelpful and unwanted. Unfortunately, he became far more susceptible to following their advice when he wasn't thinking clearly. Unfocused thinking was usually his state of mind when pondering his lover.

"Why not think about securing her now? A ball and chain is only such if you make it so." Said Gent.

"What if she finds someone else and leaves us for good?" Prat pointed out. "What do we do then?"

"We do nothing. There are other women." Replied Wolf. "Look, we're much better off now - no Dark Mark, better hygiene, stamina of a marathon runner. We'll be beating them off with a stick."

"But, Wolf," Prat whispered. "I don't need anyone else."


	2. Want

The flat was spacious with three bedrooms, a cavernous living room and a well-equipped kitchen. The overlooking view of historic Glastonbury Square was exquisite. It was close to the university but far enough away to afford much needed privacy. There were only two drawbacks. The rent was nigh close to monthly extortion and there was only one bathroom. For three unattached females in their prime mate seeking years, one bathroom was a serious issue requiring much coordination and compromise. The three roommates divvied up bathroom time zealously guarding their hourly slots. Violations and cheating earned the offender the last morning shower slot of the following day.

Hermione Granger leaned back in her bath scooping up handfuls of foam. It was her slot time, 8pm, and, as her roommates had quickly learned, she coveted her solitude like Midas did his golden treasures. What they did not know was the reason for her miserliness. They were her roommates but she was not about to divulge anything to them about the most memorable twenty-four hours of her young life. Her memories of her first real sexual experience was indelibly linked to hot, scented water, a red chaise lounge and a most considerate and passionate lover.

Behind her head lay a charmed scarlet pillow covered by tantric runes. As she leaned back, the pillow's magic, much like a pensieve, took her back to that first time allowing her to relieve the experience all over again. It had all started with a game of five card strip poker and ended with her awakening as a woman, a well loved woman. She fully relaxed losing herself in memory as she did every single night. Juggling a backbreaking class schedule as well as working part time, this nightly indulgence kept her sane. She allowed herself to lose track of time and place.

Some time later, a loud banging pulled her out of her dream gasping and flushed. "Hermione! Your hour is up! You fall asleep in the tub every night. One of these days I'm going to put an alarm spell in there." The irate knocker was Madeline Robeir, witch and aspiring artist. "Hermione, wake up!"

"All right! Give me a minute!" Hermione composed herself as she emptied the tub and cast a quick clean spell all around. After putting on her robe, tucking the pillow under her arm and picking up her hairbrush, she left the bathroom. "All yours. Thanks for waking me."

"Thank you." Madeline murmured as she entered and closed the door behind her. "I've never met a person who loved baths like you do."

"You must be part fish, Hermione." This came from Grace Whitcomb Hermione's other roommate. Grace had had the apartment first and Hermione sublet from her. Unlike Madeline or Hermione, Grace was undecided on her course in school or in life. Grace may have been indecisive but she did not lack for determination. She was taking a great variety of courses to see what interested her most. So, here she was on the sofa with books littering the floor around her. Hermione joined her in the living room. She curled her legs under her and began to brush out her hair. "Um, Hermione, I have a favor to ask."

"Sure. What is it?" Hermione replied.

"You know Derek the one I was telling you about? We are finally going out on a date but there's a small bit I'm going to need your help with,” Grace explained.

Hermione sighed. Grace had been trying for months to get Derek to notice her. It seems her efforts had paid off. "Let's hear it."

"I need you to double date with us and his cousin." Grace hurried on before Hermione could object. "It would just be this one time. His cousin is visiting and needs the diversion."

"Oh, Grace, I can't."

"Why not? You don't have a boyfriend. I've never known you to go out on a date."

"Well, he's not exactly my boyfriend. We're just involved." Even to Hermione's ears what she had just said made little sense.

"What does THAT mean?" Grace leaned forward, books and studies forgotten. Her quiet roommate of four months was finally going to open up and she did not want to miss a word. Too bad Madeline wasn't around. On second thought, it was a good thing Madeline wasn't around.

"We're lovers." Hermione tried to say the words as matter-of-factly as she could but she couldn't stop the blush that creeped up her neck and then to her face.

"You're lovers but not boyfriend and girlfriend?" asked a puzzled Grace. "And you don't date other people?"

"I see no reason to. He's all I want,” Hermione declared.

"He must be some man!" Grace chuckled.

"Oh, he is. He is." Hermione's wide smile told Grace more than her words did.

"I understand about your situation, Hermione, but please understand mine. Don't think of it as a date." Grace pleaded. "He would never know. It's just for one night with dinner and then a show. Say you'll do it, please, PLEASE?”

Hermione thought about it. _It’s one night out. I’ve been buried in classwork for months. What could go wrong?_ "All right. I'll do it. But I'm only going to be there to keep his cousin company, understand? There must be no romantic expectations at all. Not even any flirting.”

"You are the best!" Grace gave Hermione a quick squeeze. "We'll all have a great time. You'll see."

"I better not regret this,” said Hermione returning the hug. "I hope his cousin isn't a complete bore."

Grace exclaimed. "I'm going to make sure that you have a good time."


	3. Fate

Friday

Severus surveyed the board discreetly hidden behind a cupboard in the staff lounge. It was the faculty's collective annual predictions board. Next to "Most likely Head Girl" was scrawled Virginia W. There were other categories after that like "Most likely to be expelled" or "Most likely to break Filch." At the very end was one entry newly added this year for "Successor to Neville." Next to that was written "Creevey."

Now, these predictions were made all in good fun but the bets and moneys exchanged before and after were far from casual. Wizards and witches take their games VERY seriously. Whoever teacher had nominated the listed student agreed to perform a task or fulfill a bet should the nominated student fail to carry out the predicted result. Or, if the teacher was indeed correct in his or her prediction then he or she could ask any other teacher to pay up. Paying up usually took the form of hard currency but the rules allowed for tasks or actions as specified by the winner.

Of all the teachers, Minerva and Severus had proven to be the most accurate historically speaking. Both had won many times while avoiding ignominious defeat at each other's hands. In fact, the last time either one of them had lost to the other was counted in years not times. So, every year the staff looked forward to the predictions but more so to the unsaid but amply demonstrated competition between the two house heads. Past competitions had always fallen just short of internecine warfare but not by much. It was one reason why Severus goaded the Gryffindors in his class so much and that Minerva never gave an inch to the Slytherins in her classes.

Any Hufflepuff on the board invariably always won their category as steady Hufflepuffs rarely strayed from predictability. Ravenclaw students always won their category because one could always count on a Ravenclaw to deliver whatever was asked of them. But the same could not be said of the other two houses who were always considered to be wildcards. A Gryffindor could be so foolishly brave thus changing the outcome or a Slytherin could be so sly as to make the outcome a toss up. Both house heads schemed throughout the year to keep their bets as the front-runners. The competition had been notably intense during the Potter years.

This afternoon Severus had won the category he had betted on. Creevey had blown up his cauldron spectacularly. He would serve his detention after his release from the infirmary. At dinner Severus had casually announced this historic event. With barely concealed glee, he had indicated his choice of loser - Minerva.

Now, Severus sat down in the lounge waiting for Minerva to appear and pay up. He was going to milk this for all it was worth. The teachers all began to straggle in. None of them wanted to miss this. Minerva came in last.

"All right, Severus. You win and congratulations." Minerva said the words calmly.

Severus' thin lips quirked into his normal smirk. "Have you chosen how you would like to present payment - money or task?"

Minerva was a Scotswoman. The thought of giving up money for a foolish bet had never entered her mind. "Task. What do I need to do?"

Severus was silent. He had secretly been hoping that she would choose to fulfill a task. He had hated the timing of the convention as he had planned on a surprise visit to Glastonbury. By good fortune and Mr. Creevey, he could now continue with his romantic assignation. "This weekend is the annual potion masters' convention. I am to be a judge at one of the events. You will take my place for the entire weekend."

"I am required to stay at the convention?" McGonagall inquired. "All this following weekend?"

Severus was beginning to have a fluttery feeling in his stomach. He had expected Minerva to be in a high dudgeon by now. All of them knew that she did not like potions. She considered potions masters the next best things to avoid after Voldemort. She was being far too calm about her impending task. "Yes, all this weekend. No going back and forth to or from anywhere else."

"All right, Severus, I accept on one condition."

"There are no conditions, Minerva."

"According to our general rules, the required task takes precedence over any other activity. If there is an existing activity and a conflict arises, then the loser has the right to ask the winner to assume responsibility for any conflicting event or item during the time period of the required task." Minerva sat down across from Snape and smiled obliquely. "I have a conflict this weekend that you perforce must assist me with."

Gent piped up, "One must admire her style of presentation and timing. She must have some Slytherin blood somewhere."

Wolf followed that up with, "Whatever it is it can't take all weekend. We can still pop down to see Hermione."

"We can do so much in 24 hours," Prat urged.

Severus regarded Minerva as one regards a rearing cobra only meters away. "I forgot that rule existed. It's so rarely invoked. Very well what do you need help on?"

"As you know, I see so little of my family so I take due advantage of those times that I do see them. One of my nieces will be visiting me this coming weekend. She and I were planning on dinner this Saturday night."

"Very well. I will take her to dinner.”

"And a show, Severus. We have tickets bought."

"I will take her to the show after dinner."

"And Sunday, we were going to hit the shops for a bit of shopping."

"Minerva, a man and shopping do not mix well." Severus was getting sulkier by the second as he saw his weekend disappearing under an onslaught of new tasks. Tasks that he was not especially keen on.

"We were planning on going shopping only until three in the afternoon. Surely a few hours will not prove too taxing."

"Fine. I will follow the rules and take your niece to dinner, a show and then shopping the next day until three in the afternoon keeping to mind all previous arrangements." Severus said the words very carefully. Wizarding bets and rules were stringent so acceptance and agreements between winners and losers had to be precise.

"Done!" Minerva stretched her arm out and shook Severus' own proffered hand. "You won't regret it, Severus. My niece, Miranda, is a marvelous conversationalist and easygoing.”

"And she looks like?" The words were out before he could stop them.

"I will have you know that her looks match her wit."

"If she can carry on a conversation, it may not be such a trial."

"She's a darling girl. She's been working so hard and so looking forward to this holiday. You may have seen Miranda on the recent cover of Witch's Weekly. She's a much sought after as a model and actress."

"Miranda? Miranda Ross is your niece!?" Professor Sprout fairly squealed in delight.

"Yes, she is. But success hasn't spoiled her at all."

"She was incredible in that miniseries _Rich Wizard, Poor Wizard_ ,” said Madam Hooch.

The females in the room congregated around Minerva discussing this and that about this newfound niece of hers. Severus left the staff room eager to plan his own weekend. He could hardly wait to surprise Hermione Sunday night with a romantic dinner for two or maybe a stroll around the square.

In the back of his mind, he could not shake the feeling that he had won the battle and lost the war. Fate is funny that way.


	4. Makeover

Saturday morning

For only the second time, the pool was visited by persons of the female persuasion. Unfortunately for Snape, none of them were Hermione.

"Severus, you mentioned that a cadre of Hogwarts house elves physically built this magnificent decadence. They did all the labor?" asked Madam Hooch as she ran a hand through the water.

"Yes, but from my plans,” Severus answered. Swimsuit clad, he lounged lazily in the water at the pool's other end mai tai in hand. "Why aren't you at the convention, Minerva?"

"It was postponed. Something about the venue being cursed. Early attendees are convalescing in hospital. I shall fulfill the task, never fear, once it has been rescheduled." Minerva stood ramrod straight hands on her hips. Despite the heat of the room, she looked cool and collected.

Her fellow femmes had fanned out into the room. She couldn't blame them. It was a sybaritic retreat.

"Since you employed the school elves, I'm afraid that this is considered school property. I'm going to have to confiscate it. All of it."

The mai tai was dropped. "You wouldn't dare!"

"I have no choice in the matter, Severus, rules are rules. I must also report this to the Board of Directors.”

Snape argued, "But I paid for all the materials. It is at least half mine."

"In whatever case, the other half has to be reported,” Minerva replied archly. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Madam Pince lolling about on what looked like an oversized red velvet chaise lounge. Madam Pomfrey was sniffing and testing various vials arrayed on one side of the pool.

"After all this is done and over with, I am filing complaints against ALL of you! Now get out and leave a man to his privacy!" Snape's eyes narrowed as he looked at each of his invaders in turn. "How did you get in anyway?! My wards are -"

"We do have our ways, dear boy," Madam Pince called out as she lay prostrate on the chaise.

"As to that, Severus, we came to help you out,” said Madam Pomfrey advancing towards him.

"Help me out with what?" Severus unconsciously hunkered down into the water. Instinctively, he looked for the furthest spot from his colleagues. He did not like the way they were looking at him.

Gent: They are all doing an uncanny imitation of women contemplating a forbidden dessert.

Prat: Rich, sweet, smothered in whip cream.

Wolf: And we're the maraschino cherry on top.

* * *

In Glastonbury, later in the afternoon of that same Saturday

"Earth to Hermione, hello down there," Madeline stood behind the long sofa in their living room. "Grace, Hermione isn't ready!"

Hermione lay on her stomach on the sofa reading a book. She was dressed in a long slim skirt and a glittery silver blouse. Her eyes never left the page. "Don't listen to her I've been ready for hours."

"What?!" Grace piped up on her way from the bathroom to her own room. Steam followed in her wake.

Madeline motioned her over. Grace made her sodden way to the couch. Her two roommates exchanged twin looks of despair.

"Hermione, we are going to Lucrezia's the trendiest and fanciest five star restaurant in the wizarding world. This is a big occasion and we must do justice to it,” said Grace.

"No. YOU need to do justice to it. It is your date after all. I'm simply going along as a live body."

Behind Hermione, Madeline waved her wand in the air. Grace nodded.

"Lucrezia deserves nothing but our best,” said Grace.

Madeline looked at the unsuspecting Hermione and cast a spell. "Petrificus Totalus."

Madeline observed, "Grace, you do remember how she feels about being petrified?"

"Desperate times call for desperate measures. You do hair and makeup. I'll go find a dress."

Grace picked a most inopportune time to grow a backbone. Hermione's eyes sent unmistakable messages of impending, painful doom towards her overeager roommates.

Madeline said, “Just to be on the safe side, let me hide her wand before we get started."

* * *

The large Chevalier mirror had been privy to many things but this new side to the dreaded potions master was on its top ten list of startling revelations. Professor Snape stood before it examining himself. Behind him, the femmes prowled back and forth adjusting his collar or straightening his pants. Albus sat on the bed looking on in amusement. His presence had the additional benefit of assuring Snape's good behavior.

"The dinner jacket fits perfectly. I didn't think white would suit you, Severus, but the contrast does set off your dark looks to advantage. Fortunately, you're not quite a pale as you used to be,” Pomfrey observed.

"The moment of truth has arrived, ladies. We can't put it off any longer." Pince looked at her accomplices. " What are we going to do about his hair?!"

"Ponytail?" Hooch waved her wand and Snape's hair rearranged itself into a ponytail.

"They're dining at Lucrezia's, Hooch. That ponytail is more appropriate for Broom Angels night at the Hog’s Head,” Minerva pointed out. "No, that will not do. Try something else.”

“It’s just one night and-“ began Severus.

“This is my niece, remember. Your normal black on black ensemble complete with long straggly locks will not do,” replied Minerva. “You did agree to this.”

"Feather it back in waves," Pince motioned her wand around the vicinity of Snape's head. "Blonde, maybe."

The effect left the ladies speechless. Hooch uttered what was on all their minds. "Severus, did you know you look a bit like … like-"

"I know. I know. We're distant relatives several light years removed. I could hardly go out in public when he was really popular without being accosted, especially after that medieval fiasco of his. Robin Toad or something,” said Snape.

"You never said you had muggle relatives, Severus." Hooch placed some subtle highlights in his blond hair and added a neatly trimmed beard.

This maneuver was followed by four delighted squeals of "Hans!" and "Ooh, take me hostage now!"

"He is about as muggle as I am." Severus shot back. He looked at Albus beseeching him with his eyes to put an end to his torture.

The headmaster indicated no inclination to help or be merciful. He flipped through the latest issue of Playwizard.

"So, why isn't he on the Wizards Network then?" asked Pince. "The muggles don't appreciate him at all casting him as second fiddles most of the time."

"He had that good part in the Austen piece, didn't he?" McGonagall asked. "Too bad he had to share the storyline."

"How would I know? He seems to prefer the attentions and loyalty of muggle wenches. Knowing how notoriously fickle witches can truly be, I can hardly blame him."

"Fickle are we? Sounds like a man who's been burned," teased Pomfrey.

"Or scorched to cinders," postulated Hooch. "Who was she and have the burn marks healed yet?"

"You're not talking about Hermione are you? Things going all right with you two?" asked Pince.

Severus scowled at his tormentors. "Yes, they are, thank you very much. I wouldn't hurt her for anything. No meddling in my private life. I may have decided to go along with your ridiculous requirements but I have boundaries. Respect them.”

"I have to side with the ladies on this one, Severus. Your hair is a definite problem,” Albus said turning the magazine sideways.

Snape accepted the inevitable. "Very well but nothing drastic or permanent and don't change the color."

* * *

Fifteen minutes of being petrified was a lifetime as far as Hermione was concerned. During this time, she had witnessed her once pristine bedroom converted into a fashionista's paradise. Cosmetics and such lined her dresser. Dresses and accessories covered every other available flat surface - her bed, the floor, her small couch.

After a seeming eternity of repeated hearings of "But you promised you'd help me, Hermione. You can't back out now", she relented and agreed to be cooperative.

"I would kill for your bone structure." Madeline put the finishing touches on Hermione's hair.

Behind Madeline and reflected on the dressing mirror, Grace held a knee length little black dress aloft for inspection.

"Forget it, Grace. I can't wear that. A handkerchief has more coverage,” Hermione protested. "One deep breath and I would be spilling out of it."

"Fine. You don't have to wear it." Hearing Grace's capitulation put the first smile on Hermione's face. "And I don't have to give back your pillow. Consider it ransom for your good behavior."

Hermione whirled about. One glance at her bed sealed Grace's fate. Her special pillow had indeed been purloined. She hadn't noticed before because of all the dresses covering the bed. Hermione sprang up to her feet and in one swift movement had Grace in an arm lock. "Grace, I am only giving you one warning before I snap your arm off."

To Grace's credit, she did not fold in the face of this quite real threat. "The Spanish Armada was halted by an unexpected storm. Napoleon lost at Waterloo on one miscalculation. I am not losing my chance with Derek because you're being a complete prude."

Madeline clapped loudly at this. "Bravo, Grace! I didn't think you had it in you!"

"Come on, Hermione,” Grace pleaded. "You have to understand. How far did you go to land your lover?"

Madeline yelped, ”What!? Ms. I-Want -No-Social-Life has a lover?"

Grace had hit a nerve and triggered a cache of memories. A request both aggressive and desperate made to a man who intrigued her and treated her as no one else ever had. A riotous sleepover with her professors steeped in sexual education and womanly confidences. Who was she to begrudge Grace her efforts?

Hermione released Grace. "All right. I'll wear the dress if you return the pillow."

Grace was relentless. "And you'll be social and friendly to Derek's cousin?"

"You've been reading Machiavelli lately, haven't you?."

"How else am I to understand and overcome the male mindset?"

Madeline was growing more and more impatient. "Who's your lover?! What's he like?“

"Thoughtful, romantic, loyal to a fault and witty.” Hermione took the dress from Grace. She pressed it against her body checking out the fit.

"Sounds too good to be true to me," said Madeline skeptically.

"Well, yes, he is one of a kind and all mine,” Hermione said. Inside, her heart did a little flip.


	5. Trust

Saturday Evening

In the heart of London, Lucrezia’s held court in a classical building just off the financial district. A former private dining club exclusive to members only, it had recently opened to the general public. While the first floor dining area offered a hip, casual atmosphere, it was the second floor salon that truly exemplified what Lucrezia’s was all about - elegant, sophisticated yet unpretentious dining. The salon's romantic ambiance was complemented by the magnificent woodwork, the elegant fireplaces at each end of the room, the cozy booths lining one side with tea lights setting the mood at each beautifully set table.

Derek, with his cousin Eric in tow, had arrived promptly and flower-laden at the apartment; one point to the men. Underneath their robes, both wore tuxedoes; another point to the men. But the women were not taking this fashion challenge lying down.

Grace and Hermione had been more than a little flattered to see their dates' jaws drop upon seeing them for the first time. With her fair hair and complexion, Grace was divine in her dark blue velvet halter style gown with its plunging neckline. Grace presented a sexy yet elegant profile. Not to be outdone. Hermione's dress, with its sheer ecru bodice with black lace, revealing back and slimming skirt reaching just below the knee, exuded glamorous sultry magnetism. What the dress hid, it revealed. What it complemented, it enhanced.

By the time the foursome had apparated to Lucrezia's, Derek had ascended a few more notches in Hermione's estimation. It seemed to her that Derek was pulling out all the stops on this date. Derek was courteous and paid Grace all his attention. Grace was exhibiting all the characteristics of simpering feminine goo. Hermione found Eric to be shy and unassuming. After a bit of small talk, they had found that they were both well read and the small talk had become a real conversation. Blond with a runner's slim build, Eric probably had little trouble getting dates on his own.

They had been escorted to the second floor and an intimate booth by the back corner. The booth was slightly raised and had a commanding view of the entire room.

The server was clearing off their appetizers. While their dates were at the gentlemen's room, Hermione decided a change was in order. "Grace, switch seats with me,"

"Why?" Grace was starry eyed.

"There's a windy draft over here. This dress isn't exactly warm." She and Grace switched seats.

"Hermione, you have a great figure. I'm a stick figure next to you. I don't see why you don't flaunt it."

"I'm practically advertising it in this dress."

"Eric can't take his eyes off you."

"I hope he's not thinking this is anything more than what it is."

Hermione now had a clear view of the front entrance. She had just settled herself in when she glanced up and saw a stunning couple come in. The woman was tall and willowy with long, wavy red tresses flowing past her shoulders. Her movements and gestures bespoke of poise and confidence. As striking as the woman was, her escort was more than her match. Taller than the woman with a palpably masculine presence, the man moved with grace and economy. As he helped the goddess with her robe and took off his own, she caught a glimpse of his profile.

Hermione blinked a few times unbelieving what her eyes were seeing. Blinking did not clarify the situation. It was him and no other - Severus Snape. Severus and the mystery woman were being escorted to their table. Unfortunately, it looked like they were heading straight for her.

"Grace, switch seats with me."

"But we just did."

"Never mind that just do it again!" Hermione hissed out. Hermione slid over to her right while Grace stood up and sat on the far end of the booth. Severus and his companion were getting closer.

As luck would have it, they were seated in the booth next to her own. Unknown to him, Severus was sitting back to back with Hermione with only a tall partition of greenery separating them. As anyone with good hearing will attest, the ears can be just as easily deceived as the eyes.

* * *

About an hour later, underneath the elegantly set table, Hermione's linen napkin was slowly disintegrating. A tug. A tear. Another minuscule shard floated down joining its brothers and sisters by her feet. Above the table, Hermione was serenity personified. She kept up her end of the conversation easily. She smiled when she was supposed to. She laughed at the appropriate spots. She looked at ease and undisturbed.

Inside, she seethed. She had heard snatches of the charming, flirtatious words that fell from his lips. Every rich deep syllable undulated through her consciousness raising her awareness to a rousing pitch. The words battered her every nerve to raw and blistering awareness. Suspicion. Disbelief. Shock. Betrayal. They ate at her. She repeated her mantra: _I am calm. There is an explanation. I trust him completely._

"Well, how am I doing?" That voice came from the booth behind her.

"With what?" There was no mistaking the speaker's gender.

"Small talk. I told you my skills in that area were unused. Do I get points for trying, Miranda?" said Severus Snape.

"Severus, you could be reading the classifieds of the Prophet and I would still be helpless. Helplessly, hopelessly enchanted,” said Miranda Ross in a low husky voice that put fine aged whiskey to shame.

"And don't you forget it."

Hermione could easily imagine the teasing smirk that accompanied that last remark.

"I hope to help you with any other things you may be out of practice at. There will be ample opportunity to earn more points." Miranda held out her glass for a refill.

"Is that a promise?" Severus refilled it expertly.

"It's a guarantee." Miranda sipped her wine looking straight at him over the rim of her glass. ""I'm so glad we came here. After months of planning, I was losing hope this occasion would ever happen. Work always gets in the way."

"As if anyone could ever disappoint you."

"You do surprise me."

"In what way?" Severus swirled his wineglass letting the wine breathe.

"You've been so faithful tonight keeping to every letter of the arrangement. You have balked at nothing."

"How can you be surprised? I did say that I keep all my promises." Severus heard the tinkle and crack of broken glass then murmurs of obvious feminine apologies followed by reassuring masculine murmurs. It seemed to come from the other side of the partition. He thought nothing more of it and brought his attention back to his own dinner companion.

"Let's leave early shall we?" Miranda asked.

Severus topped up Miranda's glass. "So very anxious.”

"It's been so long I can't wait."

"Far be it for me to delay your pleasure."

Miranda chuckled. She rarely met men who were not intimidated by her. She was discovering Severus Snape to be the exception and certainly a charmer when he applied his mind to it. She leaned into him lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Delay has its place but I have no patience for it tonight."

Severus excused himself to go to the gentlemen's. As he left their table, he mused on all that had happened so far. He had had many misgivings but Miranda had proven to be an articulate companion. She reminded him of a younger Minerva McGonagall. She was no Hermione but Miranda was amusing and not at all affected by her celebrity status. She had started this mock flirtation. He played along with each one of them trying to outdo the other in outrageous seduction and double entendres. It certainly made the time pass by.

* * *

_I did say that I keep all my promises._ With those words, Hermione's mantra of serenity shattered at last. _Enough is enough. No man is worth this much humiliation. He could at least have broken things off with me before carrying on with another woman._

A small voice reminded her that there was no commitment like an engagement between them . How could he break something that was never there? She could at least salvage her pride. Gathering her dignity about her like a shield, she stood up.

Eric stood and slid off the seat to let Hermione out. "Are we all ready to go then?"

"I just need to settle a few things. I'll be right back." She replied. With that said she moved out of the booth and walked a few steps to Severus' table.

_Drat! Where did he go?_ The man wasn't at his table. But his date was. Yes, she was his date and his lover. No use denying it to herself not after all she had heard fall from his own lips.

"Excuse me. I thought I had heard one of my teachers at this table. Is Professor Snape dining with you?" asked Hermione.

The drop-dead gorgeous woman replied, “Yes, he is. You're a student of his?"

"Was a student. I graduated just last year. Hermione Granger." They shook hands.

"Miranda Ross.A man like Severus must be a fantastic teacher."

"I learned so much from him. I'll always be grateful." Hermione could not help notice the sheer sophistication and graciousness of the woman before her. She must seem so childish by comparison.

"He should be returning very shortly and-"

"Oh, no, no. I don't want to intrude. Besides, we were just leaving." Behind her, Grace, Derek and Eric stood. They were all slightly awe-struck at the celebrity in their midst.

"Look at all of you!" Miranda smiled at them.. "It must be a special night."

"Yes, we're off to see As You Like It,” Grace answered.

"It was nice meeting you, Ms. Ross, and give my regards to the professor. Please make sure to tell him what I said." Hermione had said the words with some finality and led her dinner mates towards the salon entrance. She didn't look back.

About a minute after Hermione and her party left Lucrezia’s, Severus sauntered back to his booth. He had to give the femmes some credit. His evening jacket did suit him superbly. His current hair style was growing on him, too. It was still long but with subtle waves that kept his hair off his face. He approved.

"Well, curtain goes up in about a half hour, should we not be going?"

"Oh, right you are." Miranda gathered her purse. "Severus, you just missed a former student of yours."

"It wasn't Potter was it? Did any of them have red hair?"

"No, no." Miranda stood up and faced him. Both tall and slim they made a good pair. "She said her name was Hermione Granger."

"Herm, ah, Ms. Granger was here? She spoke to you? She knows I was here?" The last sentence came out breathlessly and slightly strangled.

"She came over and was looking for you in fact." Severus paled. Miranda ran a hand down Severus' lapel confused by his shift in mood.

"What did she say?" Severus mind was working at a trillion possibilities. He stood there unable to move. Several hundred synapses were now working frantically to keep him from hyperventilating. His board, well, they were mortified.

Gent: We should have told her about this.

Prat: It's perfectly innocent. She'll understand once we explain it to her.

Wolf: We should have checked out the restaurant first. Damn!

"She bade me to tell you that she had learned so much from you and would always be thankful for that. She seems a lovely girl."

To Severus ears the words "would always be thankful" sounded so final. "She was first in her class. The best student I ever had. Did ... did she say anything else?"

"Not that I recall. She came over from the next booth there and-"

"She was here next to me the whole time?!" Severus strode over to the now empty booth. His knees finally gave out and he sat in the booth. He could smell a hint of Hermione's unmistakable perfume. Unmistakable since he had prepared just that special batch for her last month. There was no doubt that she had been there.

"Apparently, she thought she had heard your voice and wanted to see if it was really you,” Miranda explained. She moved to where he was seated and looked down on him. "Are you all right, Severus? You're sweating and your eyes look vaguely crossed."

Severus could see her lips move but all he could hear was a dull roaring in his ears. She had heard everything. _Why didn't she come up sooner? What am I going to say to her? How am I going to explain?_

Prat: Fall on your knees then your stomach and let her stomp on you for a while.

Gent: She may not even want to speak to you.

Wolf: Gent's right. We probably won't get within touching distance.

"Shut up! Leave me alone!" Severus had said the words out loud.

Miranda recoiled. "I'm sorry, Severus. I don't know what I said to upset you but-"

"I'm the one who's sorry. Sorry arse. It's not you." Severus ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "Where is she? I need to talk to her."

"They said they were going to see As You Like It and then they-"

"Must be her roommates Grace and Madeline." His words came out mumbled.

Miranda looked at him and her eyes narrowed. Every one of her feminine instincts was telling her that there was something interesting going on. How many professors knew their former student's roommates by name? "I don't think it was her roommates, Severus. She was with another young woman and two good-looking blond young men. They were all dressed to the nines. It looked like a double date."

She had been expecting some kind of reaction but Severus' impassivity was more unnerving. Only his eyes showed any reaction. They flashed once and then seemed to sink into dead opaque pools.

"Severus?" It did not look like he was even breathing. Miranda placed her warm hand to his now cold, clammy face.

Prat: There has to be an explanation.

Wolf: Dressed to the nines, blond, younger man. It all adds up. She's seeing someone else.

Gent: Shame on me for thinking she was the one. They're all the same - faithless and fickle.

Severus blinked once and realized where he was. He took Miranda's hand and kissed it quickly. "I'm fine, thank you. A play awaits us, milady. Shall we?"

"If you're sure, Severus." She found his sudden mood swing very odd. "We can see As You Like It another time. You don't look well."

"It's nothing. If Minerva can suffer a convention of potions masters, I can manage a play." Severus offered her his arm. "After all, those were the terms of the deal - dinner, a play and some shopping. I'm here to make sure you have a good time."

"And we will,” said Miranda.

"We certainly will." Severus smiled sweetly at his escort but his thoughts were murderous. _Play me for a cuckold will she? Well, Ms. Granger, you are about to find out how ill suited I am to that role. I've given you lessons in love. Now, let us see how you take to a different kind of lesson._


	6. Civility

Late Saturday Evening

Severus and Miranda apparated a few blocks from the theater. After their filling dinner, a short walk was in order. Under the dim streetlights, they looked like any other couple out for a stroll.

"Do you mind posing for a picture or two, Severus? I've found it best to placate the press by giving them at least one picture,” asked Miranda. "One or two pictures while we walk quickly in."

"They're here for you, why rush?" Severus whispered back. "Being seen with you will only enhance my reputation."

"Yes, you are quite eligible, aren't you?"

"Very."

"Ms. Granger, notwithstanding?" Miranda felt Severus flinch. A hit, a palpable hit!

"That was a mistake," he replied. "But educational."

"I've never heard an affair of the heart described as educational."

Severus stopped and faced her. "He who does not learn from past mistakes is doomed to repeat them. Ms. Granger is a lesson learned and soon forgotten."

"Soon or never?" said Miranda. "I have been around, too, Severus. Your reaction at Lucrezia's was not casual no matter what you say, how you say it or how often."

“Ms. Granger and I came together suddenly and under strange circumstances. Perhaps being so strange our union could not survive normalcy or our own true natures." Severus turned and hooked her arm back into his. "I have decided that what little of it that mattered is of no consequence."

As they began to walk towards the theater again, Miranda stole a few sideway glances at her companion. His face had lost its earlier animation. While not grave or serious, his face was mask-like neither revealing nor hiding.

She saw a man clearly in denial. "Well, let us see what I can do to help your aching heart."

"I said there was nothing to help."

"As you say. For the rest of the night, I shall strive to amuse and be amusing. And I hope to make you laugh again."

* * *

The Theater Royal had a long and illustrious history. Its stage had been graced by all the greats of the wizarding theater. It was a popular destination for celebrities so there was always a phalanx of press on duty in front of the massive entrance. Miranda Ross' arrival with her dashing mystery escort did not escape notice. The paparazzi shouted and whistled as they made their way to the entrance.

"Miranda, over here please."

"Is this serious?"

"You're Severus Snape, the war hero, aren't you?"

"A big smile now."

"Can you get closer together?"

Miranda and Severus paused for an instant and smiled for the cameras. Other theatergoers passed by them as they posed for a few pictures. One of those passersby was a wide-eyed Seamus Finnigan.

"Can you model that dress for us, Miranda?"

“How long have you two been seeing each other?"

After a few more poses, they entered the theater and went up the stairs to their reserved box.

* * *

The run of As You Like It had shown more than a little staying power. Even after three months, it still packed them in. The theater lobby was crowded especially near the bar.

"A gin and tonic for you, Derek. Two chardonnays for you ladies and a scotch on the rocks for me," Eric easily guided the floating drinks to their owners.

Hermione sipped her wine. “Eric, I thought you said you were in training for the Quidditch professional trials."

"I am but one night's indulgence won't hurt me much,” Eric answered. "Life is too short not to enjoy the highlights."

"The theater is a highlight?"

"Meeting you is a highlight, Hermione,” Eric said with an easy disarming smile.

From somewhere Hermione heard her name being called. Despite her anger and shame she could not subdue the sudden hopeful racing of her heart. Even as she scanned the milling crowd to see who was calling, she berated herself for such fanciful thinking. _Stop being such a silly goose. It's done and over with. Ignore this rush. It's just the usual awareness brought on by the unfinished consequence. Ignore it._ She heard her name again. She saw Seamus Finnigan weaving his way around the crowd with his date.

"I couldn't believe it was you." The two housemates hugged. Finnigan's date was a petite brunette with a sunny smile. "Hermione, meet Candice Taylor. Candice, this is Hermione Granger. Can you believe this place? Filled to the rafters."

"Seamus, this is my roommate Grace, her date Derek and his cousin Eric." Hermione introduced each of them. "Seamus and I went to Hogwarts together in the same year."

"You'll never guess who I saw outside,” said Seamus.

"Who?" asked Grace.

"Snape. I mean Professor Snape. He was our potions master and an unpleasant one at that,"

"He didn't look all that unpleasant to me," said Candice. "Very attractive for an older man actually."

"Oh, he was at Lucrezia’s, but we didn’t see him there,” Grace added.

"He would be pretty hard to miss especially with Miranda Ross hanging on his arm,” Derek added.

"He's here you say, Seamus?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, we passed them coming in. They were posing for pictures for the press. Look, there they are."

A few meters away, Miranda and Severus were slowly ascending the stairs to the private boxes. One of his hands was placed protectively on the small of her back. Their heads were set close together and it looked liked they were laughing at a private joke.

"No professor of mine ever looked like that!" said Grace. "I wouldn't have had any difficulty staying awake in his class."

"None of us looked forward to his classes. Our potions NEWTs was impossible. Weren't they, Hermione?"

"Yes, impossible to forget." Hermione had an instant flashback at the mention of NEWTs. Her body echoed her recollections as it remembered the chilled dungeon classroom made chillier by her lack of clothing underneath her school robe. "Can we get to our seats now, please? I'd like to sit down."

* * *

Their box was off to the side with a great view of the stage and the center aisle. As fate decreed, Hermione and her party's seats were in direct line of sight to the private box reserved for Miranda and Severus. Eric held on to Hermione's hand while he led them to their seats. Before sitting down Hermione looked up and around.

Gent: There's your answer, Prat. Look at her. Dressed to seduce and brazen as you please.

Prat: So beautiful. She's looking for us.

Wolf: How cozy they look together. She's going to break his heart too.

She saw Severus. Severus saw her. Their eyes locked. Severus' grip on the railing tightened to knuckle white intensity. At that moment, he allowed his passion to turn into rage. It coursed through his body unimpeded - his brows furrowed, his eyes narrowed, his nostrils flared and his lips compressed to a thin line. Then, just as rapidly, he withdrew inward. The cold impersonal mask reasserted itself reigning supreme over his features once again.

She felt the heat of his gaze and for a second she felt passion anew. She blinked and the heat was gone. In its stead was ice, desolate and implacable. The windows to his soul, those obsidian pools, were shuttered tight against her, unreadable. She felt a hand gently pull her down to her seat. She sat down. Hermione risked a second glance upward.

Severus raised his chin and looked away. Lesson delivered.

"Are you comfortable, Hermione?" asked Eric unaware of the blank numbness radiating inward from her fingertips creeping inexorably towards her heart. Taking her silence for confirmation, he settled in to enjoy the play.

The house lights dim. The play begins. And life moves on. In a play, heroes rescue damsels, maidens find true love, wishes are granted and forgiveness is only an act or a page away. But real life doesn't grant wishes so freely while forgiveness can seldom overcome pride and anger. In life, heroes and damsels have to make their own endings. Some succeed and some do not.

* * *

At intermission, the audience streamed out into the lobby and terraces to stretch their legs and get refreshments. The night air was cool and lured many outside. As luck would have it, both Hermione and Severus found themselves on the side terrace. Severus spotted her first standing alone by the stone railing. He watched her for a while.

Wolf: Her date is not very attentive, is he?

Prat: Go on talk to her. What could it hurt?

Gent: You're the elder show her how these things are done. Make it a clean break.

Later on after some reflection, Severus blamed Wolf and Gent for what happened next. Here he was the wounded party and yet he hadn't torn into her. He should have been praising her as the epitome of infidelity and fecklessness. But instead he was trying to save face for both of them. Perhaps if he had been more volatile he could have gotten some reaction from her. An honest reaction would have been better than this stilted drama they were carrying out. He should have forsaken civility and embraced furious honesty. But that wasn't what he did.

He straightened himself, took a deep breath and approached. "Hermione."

This time when she turned to look who had called her name she had no expectations and no reaction. Hermione crossed her arms and looked up at him. She ruthlessly squelched the incipient sexual attraction that his presence triggered in her. "So, I do rate a goodbye after all,"

"We can be civil if nothing else." He sidled to her side careful to not invade her personal space. He took a deep breath filling his senses with her. He made a mental note to dispose of his current batch of perfume. _No sense torturing myself needlessly._ "We never said this was anything more than what it was."

Hermione bit her lower lip. She swallowed once then regained her strength. From where that strength came from, she didn't know. But it was there and right now it was the only thing she had. Her voice broke after his name but she got the rest of the words out somehow. "Severus, what about our game?"

"Allow me." Severus put his wineglass on the railing and transfigured it into a deck of cards. "Let's keep things simple. Cut cards. High card wins."

Hermione nodded. She moved closer to him watching him shuffle the cards expertly. As he placed the deck on the railing, she placed a hand over his and murmured the consequences spell changing the rules from poker to high card stakes. Severus and Hermione both steeled themselves against the familiar rush of sensual sensation. Their hands touched a little longer than necessary before he said, "Ladies first."

She cut the deck and turned her card over - the Queen of Hearts. He cut the deck and turned his card over - the King of Spades. Silently, they laid their decks on the stone railing. For something so strong, the consequence spell dissolved their link with no fanfare. It was there then it wasn't anymore.

"Free at last," said Severus in a tone dry as the Sahara. Once he saw her face though he knew that he had made a very big mistake.

Her face was blank, unreadable. Her voice was devoid of all emotion and nuance. "Congratulations, Professor, the game goes to you."

Severus Snape had learned to trust his intellect more than anything else. Logic told him that all the evidence pointed to one basic premise. She had found someone else. But his emotional instincts were coming to the fore all at once. Unfortunately, he had long neglected these instincts and had no idea what to make of the signals he was receiving. All he felt was his hammering heart and his tight throat. "Hermione, let's-"

"As far as I am concerned, Professor, the last few months never happened." Hermione stepped away from him.

"Hermione, please. This isn't- " he started towards her.

"Someone told me to enjoy the high points in life when I had the chance. After this low point, I can see the merits of that philosophy. I intend to enjoy life and all its many highlights from now on."

Severus could not think of what to say. If he were honest with himself, he would have admitted that he was terrified to say anything so he said nothing.

He watched walk back inside With one brush of his hand, he sent the cards flying over the railing.

When the play resumed, Severus searched for her from the box. Her seat was empty and so was the seat next to her.


	7. Drama

Sunday Afternoon Tea Time - Hogwarts

Deputy Headmistress Professor Minerva McGonagall swept into the headmaster's office. "I swear Severus has more mood swings than a pendulum on a grandfather clock. Sprout is horribly upset. She declares she will never forgive you, Albus."

"What else could I do?" Dumbledore offered her a lemon drop. "I couldn't very well let him keep using house elves for target practice, could I? Besides, the infirmary was filling up. A few plants were expendable."

So high was her level of aggravation that Minerva popped the drop into her mouth. “Did you have to lock him inside the experimental greenhouse along with the expensive exotics last night?”

"All the greenhouses look alike to me. I thought that one had the carnivorous plants in it. They at least would have had a fighting chance." Albus shook his head ruefully. "How did it all go wrong?"

"I wish I knew.” Minerva collapsed dramatically on to the sofa. "From what Miranda has told me and what I've gotten out of Severus, the whole thing smacks of … of melodrama. Something from an episode of Hemlock Street. Miscommunication. Misunderstanding. Pride. Stubbornness. A vortex of … of emotional chaos!”

“Where is Severus now?”

“Miranda did all she could to cheer him up during their shopping trip earlier today. I’m afraid Severus has now settled into the Stygian depths of brooding in his quarters.”

Albus sighed. “Into every relationship, some rain must fall.”

“Deluge, in some cases,” said Minerva. “I suppose you’re right. Let’s see how it goes from here. One of them will come to their senses. How long can they stay upset with each other?”

* * *

Sunday Evening - DiagonAlley Owl Post Center

With a hood covering her head and a cloak over her shoulders, Hermione took her place in the queue. She carried a large box.

Cried out and exhausted, she had made the decision last night. Her time with Severus was at an end. The best thing to do was a complete break. No contact. No communication. Nada. Zip.

As she waited in line, however, she was having second thoughts. This always happened when she gave herself a few minutes of inactivity. In queue, what else could one do but think. _Maybe we could part as friends? Platonic friends. That wouldn’t be so bad. He’s so alone. People’s needs change. That doesn’t mean that our friendship has to be over, too._

Hermione was about to step out of line so she could write a letter of friendship to Snape when she glanced at the witch standing behind her in line. The witch was reading the Daily Prophet and chatting with another witch beside her.

On the front page under the byline of Rita Skeeter was a moving picture of Miranda Ross standing very close to one identified as Professor Severus Snape. The pair seemed intimate and loving. Above the picture, the headline read, "Miranda In Love & Engaged." Inside the paper was the exclusive story of their "weekend of love and discovery" complete with pictures of the happy couple at Lucrezia’s, at the theater and doing some shopping in Diagon Alley just this afternoon.

With every picture seared into memory, her resolve hardened. She seethed like a volcano five minutes before eruption. _One date to the theater is one thing but TWO DAYS TOGETHER??? That is it!_

A complete break was the only solution to her broken heart. It would take time but she would move from this fiasco. There was only one thing left to do.

* * *

Near Midnight - Headmaster’s Office

Albus emerged from his fireplace and knew something was not right. Minerva was waiting for him. She was pacing. Her tight, immaculate bun was no more. Her hair was long and loose about her shoulders. Small trinkets around his office seemed to change as she got close and then change back when she moved further away. He had never seen her this upset.

Albus shrugged off his traveling cloak and tossed it on the settee. “My dear Minerva, what’s happened? What’s wrong?”

“That!” She pointed at the Daily Prophet lying flat on his desk. “Have you read it?”

“I glanced through it in between Ministry meetings. Unfortunate timing. How did Severus react? Badly, I take it?”

“The evening edition was delivered at dinner. It took both Hagrid and Filch to drag him out of the Great Hall on my orders. A house elf witnessed my attempts to calm Severus in the staff room. He was literally foaming at the mouth. The elf took one look at his manic eyes and fled to the kitchens. There followed a helter-skelter exodus to the forest led by Dobby no less."

"Any luck luring them back?" Albus picked up the paper and began to read.

"None. The staff and students cleared the tables,” said Minerva. “It could do the students some good to have to make beds, do laundry, light fires and cook meals on their own for a while."

"Ah, the silver lining in every cloud. Has anyone contacted Hermione? Those two need to talk this out."

"She's gone from her flat. The provost has given her a week to return. If she's not back within the week, she'll lose her place. If I wasn't so sorry for him, I would kill Severus for ruining her future like this."

Dumbledore threw the paper down in disgust. "He had help."

“I’ve owled Harry to act as negotiator with the elves. He’s in Paris on business but will be here in a few days. Hagrid has piled mountains of hay near the forest for the elves to sleep in. Poppy has emptied the infirmary closets of blankets for them, too,” said Minerva. “I'm telling you, Albus, my nerves cannot take any more. I take my share of the blame. I should have put a stop to things as soon as Severus confirmed their game. But I have changed my mind about their suitability for each other. I’ve seen how changed Severus is. Now, what can be done?”

“Nothing. They both need time and peace,” said Albus. “Let us give them that. I will talk to Severus in the morning. I hate to see you like this. Would you like a little bit of the Draught of Peace, my dear?”

“Maybe a little,” said Minerva weakly.

“I doubt that things can get any worse between Severus and Hermione. If they are meant to be, they will find their way back to each other.” Albus went to a locked cabinet and extracted a small ornate silver jug. He poured some of the liquid into a short glass. Offering it to Minerva, he said, “You have done all you can. I want you to have a good night’s sleep. Things will look better in the morning.”

Albus escorted Minerva back to her quarters. The whole situation was stressful. He detoured to the kitchens to make himself some cocoa. 

* * *

On Severus’ desk lay Hermione’s pillow. A small dagger protruded from its middle. No note had been included inside the delivery box. No note was needed. Her meaning was clear enough.

The potions master lay sprawled on his bed. The room stank of whisky.

Gent: Well, that’s final. Quite.

Wolf: There are other fish in the sea. Let’s try for someone low maintenance.

Prat: I have to win her back.

Gent: Our posts have been returned undelivered.

Gent: The bird has flown the coop.

Prat: I am not losing the best thing that ever happened to me! I won’t!

Gent: What do you propose to do to fix the situation?

Prat: I’ll think of something. I must!


	8. Desperation

Wednesday Morning

The bed was in the middle of the room illuminated by some unseen spotlight. The area around the bed was dim. On the bed was a solitary figure dressed in black with a mood to match.

"Go to her, man!" a masculine voice urged him.

"Did I not?" Severus sat in the middle of his bed Indian style with his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped together. His chin rested on his hands. "The wench was occupied you see. To my regret twas not with me."

"Surely, you did avow thou art repentant?" asked the voice.

"Nay, priceless pride, unhindered spite, all conspired to tie my tongue too tight."

"Of what thou found to say, could one not find favor?" It was another voice - a feminine one.

"I said nothing to turn her sweet but found to leave only vinegar to taste and treat."

"For shame, thou art a worldly man but mark a lonely one!" exclaimed the male voice.

"Too true, my friends. Do advise me well. For I cannot abide long in this pit I dwell."

"If advice we give, you willful ox, thou wilt follow it?" asked the female.

"You beggar promises from a desperate man. I shall in faithful obedience honor thy plan."

"Then hear now of what thou must do."

Severus leaned over to hear better.

The voice was shaky but clear. It said, “To have this lie reversed, you must brew a potion first."

Another voice intruded into his consciousness. It was a louder voice heavy with authority that could not be ignored.

"Wake up! What have you done to yourself now?" Dumbledore shook Severus awake.

By the bed, the Bloody Baron hovered. The potions master was abed fully clothed clutching a scarlet pillow to his chest.

"Severus! Wake up!"

"Can't you see I've died? Show some respect,” mumbled Severus not bothering to move a muscle. He did not relinquish the pillow. "Nightmares and jests, hopeless rhymes no less."

"I don't see any bottles about." Minerva positioned pillows as Dumbledore raised Severus to a sitting position.

Severus' voice was slightly slurred but coherent. "Did you think me a lush, my dear? To woo my love I must think clear."

Dumbledore held Severus' face still. Snape's eyes were far too glassy but not at all bloodshot. It was obvious he had imbibed but not of alcohol. Dumbledore was afraid to confirm his suspicions. In the hands of a master of words like Severus, the possibility was too horrible to contemplate. Yet, he had to ask. "By any chance, did you make and take a Bard's Voice potion?"

“Isn’t that illegal, Albus?”

“Only some of the ingredients, my dear,” said Albus. “Did you take the Bard’s Voice potion? Answer me!”

"I did, I did, once then twice. To Nod I bowed before the thrice."

"Two doses! Goodness, Severus, only one is required,” Minerva exclaimed.

"Winning my true lady's heart is all. No price too high or task too small." Severus brought the pillow to his lips and gave it a kiss. It was Hermione's pillow.

"Too much and the condition can become permanent,” Minerva said. "Why would you do something so foolish?"

"As you say, a stubborn hide have I. Too fond I was and let it go awry." Severus held his tongue on the reason why. He had stripped the library of every book with any shred of romantic knowledge - courtship, romance, relationship issues, everything. He had succumbed to devouring the latest self help volume titled _Wizards are from Mars, Witches are from Everywhere_.

He went so far as to attempt mending the pillow the hard way. He looked down at his fingers. They were still bleeding a little from the needle marks.

"Thank you, Baron, of informing us of his condition. Please go and prepare Poppy for our arrival,” Dumbledore said.

The Slytherin ghost disappeared. Between Albus and Minerva, they got Snape to his feet and shuffling towards the door.

* * *

On their way to the infirmary, they met Harry Potter coming down the hall. Severus hailed him with, "Here he be the world's last chance. Through this hero will my suit advance."

"Suit?" Harry looked at Snape suspiciously.

"The professor is not feeling well, Harry,” Dumbledore informed him with a small smile. "You're looking well."

"I would think you'd be on top of the world, professor. Congratulations on your engagement." Harry extended his hand out.

Instead of shaking the proffered hand, Severus put both hands on Harry's shoulders. He looked grave and serious. "You are close to my heart's folly, my earnest fool. Thou must help mend this lie so cruel."

Before Harry could respond, Professor McGonagall took over. "Severus, keep on your way to the infirmary. You, Harry, need to talk to Dobby. It's Slytherin house's turn to cook lunch today. I would much prefer to avoid that if at all possible."

"Come Severus. Pomfrey awaits.” Dumbledore and Snape headed in the opposite direction.

Harry began, “What's really going on, Professor? Does this have anything to do with his engagement and-"

"It's a long story but talk some sense into Dobby first. I'll tell you about Hermione and Severus' romantic problems later,” Professor McGonagall replied.

Harry's exclamation of "What!? Romantic?!” reverberated down the hallway.

A few of the portraits held on to their frames as they rattled and vibrated violently.

"Hermione didn't tell him,” Dumbledore mused.

Severus murmured, "No one knew save but a few."

* * *

A few minutes later they reached the infirmary. The Bloody Baron disappeared once he saw they had arrived. Nurse Pomfrey shepherded them into an inner room.

Poppy motioned him to sit on an examination table. His long legs dangled not touching the floor. "Severus, love potions and related paraphernalia are the most potent around. You should have known better than to overdose."

"All I sought was my own heart's truth. But jealousy blinded me, hang the brute!" Severus looked appropriately contrite. He swung his legs uselessly. His hands gripped the edge of the table.

"Albus, can't we keep him this way? He's delightful."

"Oh, perchance kill me now, fore my sanity at last must take its bow." Severus spat the words out his disdain evident. "Delightful indeed!"

"He cannot stay this way, Poppy. If he does, he'll have to change his standard speech. Imagine his quandary trying to find a rhyme for ‘ensnaring the senses’,” said Albus.

"I hadn't considered that. He'll drive the rest of us mad with the trying." Poppy opened some cupboards taking out and inspecting several bottles. "Didn't it take you nearly two years to get that speech just right, Severus?"

Snape glared at them. "What to me are bits of sorry verse, to others I promise a lingering curse."

"Poppy, hurry please,” Dumbledore insisted. "He's getting worse. Is it contagious? Hurry!“

"Here it is," Pomfrey handed Severus a small vial. Severus removed the stopper and downed the whole thing. He slowly collapsed on the table all the tension gone from his body. Snape drifted off to the first restful sleep he had had in days.

Dumbledore shook his head ruefully. "He's taken this whole thing so very hard especially after he got the full story from one of her roommates. More than half the school owls are currently waiting at Glastonbury for a response from her. He's been sending letter after letter to her. He probably took the potion intending to send her poetry or something of that fashion."

“She has returned to school. Why doesn't he just go see her?" asked Pomfrey placing a pillow under Snape's head.

"He tried several times. Hermione has warded her actual person from accepting or recognizing his presence within 100 meters of her. Quite an ingenious spell when I chanced a look at it. I'm thinking of making something similar for Hogwarts."

"A rather extreme measure, Albus."

“Extreme passion evokes extreme reactions, Poppy. What is between Severus and Hermione is more intense than they believe or let on. I thought that with the game done, their attraction to each other would lessen but I was wrong. The game was simply a conduit for their real emotions.“

"Well, how long is this going to go on?" Poppy arranged a blanket around Snape.

"Oh, not long. The instrument of their reunification has just arrived."

Poppy crossed her arms and looked inquiringly at him. “What is it?”

"Harry Potter has already saved the world. With some help from the rest of us saving this relationship should be child's play."

"I think we've helped enough, Albus."

"Perhaps, but what are friends for, Poppy?" With that said the two left to go to dinner leaving the dozing potions master blissfully unaware of what was to come.


	9. Exorcism

Thursday Afternoon

The pile of letters, small boxes and long stemmed roses sat in one corner of the apartment conveniently situated by the fireplace. They left the balcony door open so the owls could just fly through and left a dish of owl treats close at hand.

"Hermione, I'm getting a little tired of handing out memory loss charms all over the place. People are noticing that the square is filling up with owls,” Grace observed.

"So let them notice." Hermione scooped some letters and made a statuesque pyramid of them in the hearth.

"I would were it not for one of our world’s little obstacles - the need to keep our presence out of the muggle newspapers."

"Don't worry. They'll probably think it's a freak accident of nature." Hermione set a slow flame in the hearth. No bonfire for her. A part of her wanted to savor these moments.

Madeline fingered one of the envelopes - a long gold envelope trimmed in red attached to a long stemmed rose. "Severus was quite sorry, Hermione. I could just hear it in his voice."

"Do I care?" Hermione brutally tossed a bouquet of flowers into the fire.

"Aren't you at least going to open a letter or one of those gifts like that big box over there? It came about noon today."Madeline pointed to a large white box with a flamboyant red bow that was sitting on top of the dining room table.

"No. In fact, you two may have the gifts."

"You mean it?! Severus looked like he had great tastes. These presents have to be good." Madeline bounded over to the dining table. "Me first. I get the big one!"

"Isn't it time you talked to him?" Grace asked.

"I tried didn't I, at the restaurant? I looked for him at the theater. His one look froze my insides,” Hermione admitted. "Then I tried again on the balcony but what did he do? He slammed AND locked the door on my face literally. I am cried out. I am through with him. I am free at last!"

"But didn't you listen when Miranda came by and tried to explain- " Grace persisted.

"That's not the point, Grace. It’s not Miranda’s fault. Severus didn't trust me." Hermione added a few more letters to the burning pile. "He jumped to the wrong conclusions."

"So did you."

"That's different. I at least tried to find him and talk to him. I tried to do the mature thing." Hermione sat by the fire poking the letters about. "I was dismissed. I was made to feel that I was of no account whatsoever. He made his feelings very clear when we were on the balcony."

"Don't you owe him a fair hearing? Just once?"

"I didn't get one. He was the judge, the jury and the executioner. I was judged guilty and sentenced even before the hearing."

"Admit it, you both let your emotions get the best of you,” said Madeline removing what looked like an antique lamp from the box. "Funny as you're usually the one who tells me to be more-"

Her words ended in a yelp of surprise as a cloud of blue smoke rose out of an opening in the lamp. The smoke settled in a mass on the sofa and assumed the shape and outline of Severus Snape complete with long but wavy hair, black buttoned vest, high starched collar, black pants and black shoes.

"Finally, I was starting to develop a case of claustrophobia in there," it said. The ladies gaped. "What, haven't seen a phantasm before? Well, don't worry I am really not Severus Snape. Couldn't pay me all the galleons in Gringotts to be him. But I digress, I am simply assuming his form while I am contractually obligated to do so."

Hermione had been through many things during her years at Hogwarts and the war, but this was unique in her experience. Her mind rapidly brought up the definition of a phantasm - " An apparition which can be seen but has no corporeal reality. A phantasm was more than a poltergeist and less than a full ghost. An object that can take on the mental projections of a living entity." She had to admire Severus' ingenuity. He had found a way around her 100 meter ward. He had probably guessed that she had used something of his to allow the ward to identify his presence other than by sight. So, he sends a phantasm in his place. "How long is your contract?"

"Oh, he elected the maximum time period, miss - 24 hours from the time I was released plus a nice bonus too if I could start right away. I have rather fancy tastes so of course I left my other-"

"What are the other terms of this contract?"

The phantasm tapped his lips lost in thought then counted off his terms on his fingers. "Let me see. I was supposed to take his appearance. It's not too bad really. The height is good. He's not grossly flabby either. Do you like what I did to my hair? I just could not stand it hanging over my face like his does. It reminds me of my last job as a stand-in-place guard in Gulliver's-"

"What else?" Hermione sat down and looked at the phantasm. "There has to be more to this."

"Oh, yes. I was supposed to keep you company so you wouldn't forget about him. I was to make sure you read as many of the letters as possible. I was supposed to emphasize all his good points. There was one more thing but I have such a bad memory."

"Whatever he's paying you, I'll double it. Just get out."

"Sorry, a contract is a contract. Very binding. I'd get thrown out of the union for breech of contract. Nothing is worth that."

"So, you hang around here for the next 24 hours?” asked Madeline. "Might be fun having a man around."

"As to that, no. Where Ms. Granger goes, I go."

"You have got to be kidding?" Hermione sat back on the couch her eyes wide with disbelief.

"No, the terms of the contract were very specific. My boss said that Snape was quite a negotiator. Guess he wanted his money's worth. Considering my rates I completely understand."

"Your rates are very high then?" asked Grace.

"You are looking at the best, THE best in the business. I have no peer. None." The phantasm preened. "I've won awards."

"Any we've heard about?" asked Madeline.

"Well, no. I didn't mean really big awards. Just industry stuff, you know. They're the ones that really matter,” the phantasm sniffed.

"I cannot have you around. This is intolerable!" Hermione shot out of the sofa and began to pace.

"That's exactly what he said you would say,” said the phantasm. "Where are my manners? I know who you all are but you don't know who I am. The name is Guido, Guido St. John, very pleased to make your acquaintance Ms. Granger. How would you like me to address you?"

"Guido?" Grace couldn't contain her laughter.

"The name sounded exotic. Sue me. Someone was already registered at the union under my real name Alfred. And George and Wallace were taken too. So, Guido I became.”

"You may not address me as anything at all." Hermione fairly snarled. She scooped up another handful of letters and tossed them into the fire. "You are not staying."

"He did say you were going to be difficult and I was not to be intimidated. It's in my contract."

"Did he now?" Hermione rounded on the phantasm. Guido flinched but only a little. He was a professional after all. She brandished her wand menacingly. "You are going back into that lamp right now. It will be sent back to whence it came. Otherwise I will have no choice-"

"You know you do that intimidating bit really well. I see you've picked up pointers from Snape." Guido relaxed into the sofa full length with his hands crossed behind his head. "I'd be really scared if I were less experienced in the business or if I wasn't already more scared of Snape than I am of you.”

"What makes you think I wouldn't do something worse to you?" asked Hermione taken aback by Guido's nonchalance.

"You just don't have that "don't mess with me" aura that he does. And his reputation for the Dark Arts is real not some paper diploma from some fly by night school. I have no desire to test his practical experience."

"I will not put up with this. This is harassment! Borderline stalking!" Hermione's hands curled into claws. She desperately wanted to strangle Guido and especially the man who sent him here. "Where do I file a lawsuit?"

"Look I just want to fulfill the terms of my contract. By 5 PM tomorrow I will be out of here."

Hermione looked at Guido lounging back on the sofa. Guido may look like Snape but he didn't have his voice she thought. _If I don't hear his voice, I should be able to bare this ridiculous situation._ Besides, she couldn't remember any spells to use against a phantasm. She had too much homework left to do leaving no time to research the matter properly. "All right, Guido, you may stay but only until the term of your contract expires and not a second more. You may address me as Hermione."

"Thank you, Hermione. I'll do my best to not get in anyone's way." He sat up and shook her hand. For Hermione there was no actual hand but she did feel a slight tingle as their hands touched.

"By the way, could I have you three wonderful ladies fill out my evaluation form at the end of my contract period? Just some questions on how well I fulfilled the contract and things like that."

"Your boss sounds very strict, Guido,” said Madeline.

"You don't know the half of it,” Guido responded. "In this biz, you're only as good as your last contract."

"Well, you look enough like him. But I have to grade you less because you don't sound anything like him,” Grace added.

Guido stood up suddenly as if a lightning bolt had exploded in his lithe body. "That's it! That's the other thing I forgot. I'm supposed to sound like him. You'll just have to mark me off for diction. " Guido cleared his throat. He braved an arrogant pose. The next words out of his mouth were vintage Snape - low silky with just a hint of a growl. "Well, ladies, here I am and all yours. How may I be of service?"

"That's perfect!" Madeline clapped her hands.

A rhythmic thumping sound was coming from the fireplace. Hermione Granger was pounding her head on the mantel. The words echoed over and over in her mind - _I am in hell_.


	10. Contracts

Thursday Evening

Dinner at the apartment was unusually busy that evening. True to his word, Guido kept out of Grace and Madeline's way. He had even saved a few of Snape's letters from becoming one with the fire. He planned to read them to Hermione when she had retired to sleep. As the girls began their dinner, Guido consulted his to do list. When one has as poor a memory as he did, he had learned to compensate by being organized. He made some distinct affirmative noises and nodded his head now and again.

"Ah, Hermione. Now would be a good time to fulfill one of my requirements,” Guido called out casually.

Hermione's fork paused in midair. She did not like Guido's tone. "Requirements?"

"Under my contract I am to read this document at minimum 3 times during my allotted time period verbatim and completely."

"Oh, go ahead. But don't expect me to listen." Hermione continued on with her dinner.

Guido moved closer to the table all the while saying in a singsong way "mi, mi, mi, mi, la, tra-la-la -"

"Guido, I thought you said you were going to read something?" asked Madeline.

"I am and I will. I was merely preparing my voice. Snape's low register is not easy on the vocal cords. This contract is quite taxing on my talents. Fortunately, I am more than equal to the task." Guido unfurled a long piece of parchment. The sheet glowed dully. He cleared his throat and began his performance. "The Seven Virtues of Severus Snape" or "Why Me Instead of the Other Guy."

"It does NOT say that!" Hermione's head jerked up and she looked up at him.

"Yes, it does." Guido held out the ghostly parchment for her viewing and pointed at the large title. "See right there."

Hermione peered at the luminous nearly transparent sheet and recognized Severus' bold handwriting. Guido held the sheet in front of him and struck up his pose anew.

Guido began. "Hermione, the book said to make a list of my good points with examples so here they are." Despite her intentions to not listen, Hermione couldn't help but be curious. She kept her eyes on her down on her meal but her ears were attuned to Guido or as Hermione now thought of him - G-Snape.

"One. I am thoughtful. I give you body massages and body rubs unasked."

"Two. I am considerate. I make sure to warm the massage oil with my own breath in my own hands before I touch ANY part of you."

"Three. I am gentle. I begin with the soles of your feet kneading the day's tension until it is barely a memory. I do the same with your ankles and calves but more tenderly in slow circles alternating hard and light pressure."

"Four. I am relentless. No matter how much you moan, gasp and writhe, I continue upwards with great deliberation leaving no part untouched."

At this, Madeline and Grace looked very attentive. Hermione continued to eat her dinner unperturbed by Guido's recitation.

"Five. I am thorough. If my hands alone are inadequate to give you relief then tongue, toes, skin, whatever body part is utilized to its maximum satisfying effect.

"Six. I am unselfish when it comes to you and only you. Have I not always made sure you were ready first at least once and usually twice?

"Seven. I am attentive. Every aching part of you gets my undivided attention." Guido's voice went lower and smoother. "Remember how I would skim one hand along your legs, between your legs parting them as I went -"

"Stop! Let me see that." Hermione stood up and read over Guido's shoulder. Apparently, number seven was rather lengthy. As she read, a blush slowly crept up from her neck to her cheeks.

"What's number seven, Guido?" asked Grace innocently.

"You are not to read that list to anyone else, Guido. Do you hear me?" Hermione stopped her roommates further protests with a look. "You've had your one read, Guido, put that away and go … go sift through the letters or something."

"Actually, Hermione, I haven't finished. I have to read the whole thing out loud as he would have read it. I had to rehearse the whole piece just so. Snape was very particular about number seven. I've never had such a director. Very keen on inflection and delivery he was."

Hermione was not surprised that Snape had put that particular clause in. However, she was not without logic of her own. She said casually. "But, Guido, I've already read it therefore technically, the reading is done."

"You reading it does not count. My contract was very clear on that." Guido cleared his throat. "Seven. I am -"

"Stop!" Hermione was getting red again. "Not now, Guido. You can finish it later."

"Not possible. Once I start I have to finish at that same reading per my contract. Quote no breaks allowed, no exceptions unquote." Guido straightened once more. "Seven- "

"Stop! Just stop! If you must, let's go do this in my room." Hermione led Guido to her room.

Grace and Madeline waited until they heard Hermione say the locking spell before rushing to her door and pressing their ears against it. Unfortunately, Hermione had also used a silencing spell and they could hear nothing. Dispiritedly, they returned to the dining table.

After about fifteen minutes, a very flushed Hermione walked briskly past her roommates saying breathlessly. "We'll be right back. I need some air."

Guido was right behind her. "Amazing what power words can have if said just right."

"That was one long paragraph. Twenty minutes!" Madeline exclaimed.

"Oh, it wasn't too long. Hermione kept pleading me to stop and I had to begin at number seven again and again,” Guido explained. "Hermione, you must be unusually sensitive because I find it hard to believe that one paragraph would have that kind of an effect."

Hermione stopped at the door her hand on the doorknob. She turned back to look at Guido. "It wasn't the words, Guido. It was the memory."

"You mean he can really do that with his-"

"As many times as he wants and without resorting to magic." Hermione opened the apartment door and she and Guido stepped out.

Grace and Madeline looked at each other. They had heard enough. They stopped clearing the dinner table and ran after the pair. Were they not at university to get educated? It was therefore in their best interest and ultimately in the interest of all womankind everywhere to find out what Snape Virtue Number Seven was.

Was it reproducible? Was it unique to the professor? If so, could he be cloned?

* * *

Hogwarts had been host to many strange and wonderful events but tonight was truly exceptional. There at the high table sat Severus Snape in his usual spot. On his right was Madam Hooch and on his left was Harry Potter. That alone was strange enough, however, what tipped the scales further to the edges of the extraordinary was the fact that Snape and Potter were talking so animatedly to each other.

"Our agent is confirmed in. A reconnaissance of the area shows that our subject has not left the premises."

"Severus, if Hermione ever finds out about my part in this, I am doomed,” Harry said in between mouthfuls.

Snape moved his food about his plate. "We must keep the pressure on her until she buckles. The next task will be-"

"Severus, are you doing battle maneuvers or wooing a woman?" asked Minerva from Harry's left.

Hooch made a clucking noise beside him. "Hermione with a siege mentality won't be amenable to you, Severus. No woman would be."

Gent: Do not listen to them, my boy. Stay firm. We know what we're doing.

Prat: We know her better than these old crones do. Once we have her back, we can apologize.

Wolf: Love and war. In the end, only winning matters. Hermione will understand.

"I tried the romantic drivel that you females swoon over. That got me nothing except a day in the infirmary. I am going to win her back my way, Minerva. You'll see."

"Albus, you can't let him follow through with this. Do you know what he's done?" asked Minerva.

"Yes, he has sent a substitute in his place to plead his suit,” said Albus placidly. "With Hermione not allowing Severus near her, what else could he have done?"

"You sound like you approve?!" Minerva looked at him in shock.

"There are some things that a man has to do, Minerva. Now that the game is complete, he realizes that real feelings exist. He simply has no choice but to act on those feelings. He risks losing her if he does nothing.” Albus returned her look with equal candor.

"Really? Too bad you don't follow your own advice." Minerva pushed back her chair and strode out of the hall straight down the center aisle. Her every stride radiated anger.

"What did I say!? Minerva! What did I say?!" Dumbledore stood up and called after her retreating back. Dumbledore sat back in his chair and looked over at Harry and Severus. He saw the same questioning and unknowing looks mirrored in their faces.

Madam Hooch, Madam Pince and Nurse Pomfrey shot some well-deserved glares at their indelicate headmaster and his two equally oblivious male cohorts.

"Albus, you may be the greatest wizard of our times but you can be so obtuse about the things that really matter,” Madam Pince said.

"Like what?" asked Albus.

"Love, friendship, life, marriage, companionship,” Nurse Pomfrey put in.

"Severus' intentions are honorable. If they weren't I would not have sanctioned all this,” Albus replied.

"Albus, I will only say this once so listen well. There comes a time when every man must look into his OWN house and see what's missing.”

"What does that mean, Poppy?” asked Albus exasperated.

Harry had been quiet throughout following the conversation in his own quiet way. He stood up and declared to no one in particular "I have to talk to Ginny. Severus, Headmaster, I'll be back in the morning. Excuse me, everyone."

The ladies beamed at him.

"You were always bright, especially when you put your mind to it, Harry,” said Madam Pince.

Harry followed the same path down the aisle as his former head of house. The ladies followed him out.

Dumbledore looked at all the remaining males at the table. "What is with all the women today!?"

So ended one of the strangest and most eventful dinners at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.


	11. Charmed

Thursday Evening at the Daily Prophet office

Rita Skeeter gnawed at the tip of her quill while holding at arms length what potentially could be the juiciest story of the year. A few minutes ago she had received an owl post from an extremely reliable source. Not wanting to revisit old memories and unpaid grudges she had almost set fire to the note immediately. However, her journalistic nature smelled blood in the water and overpowered her natural sense of self-preservation.

"You've got that look, Rita,” Angus Mackay, her editor, commented from his desk.

"Look?" Rita asked taking her eyes off the note and looking at her editor for the last ten years.

"Like a cat with a canary in each paw faced with the decision of which to eat first," said her editor. "Shall I reserve the front page of tomorrow’s edition for you?"

"You're the best, Angus."

"Do me one favor, Rita." Angus pushed away from his desk and turned to give her a serious look. "Verify, verify, verify!"

"I'm insulted, Angus! I always use good sources." Rita stood up and put on her robes. She had enormous ambition and no scruples to stand in the way of that ambition. She had a story to investigate.

"Rita, I want everything tight, especially if I have to face up to the Potter amateur legal team of Weasley, Brown and Longbottom again." Angus stood up and stretched. "I still have nightmares of being cross-examined by that shark-in-the-making Longbottom. Did I ever tell you he has the most intimidating glare?"

Rita paused at the newsroom entrance getting set to apparate. "About a hundred times, Angus. I'm off to check it out now. I'll do my best, all right?"

"You had better! I hate to think what that team will be like once they've graduated. Get it done early and give me time to proof it." Rita barely heard the last sentence as she apparated away.

* * *

Guido clapped his hands over his eyes as Hermione got ready for bed. He was not allowed to see her in any state of deshabille.

“I’m in a flannel nightgown. Perfectly decent,” said Hermione. She pushed her duvet to the side and climbed into bed.

“It’s in my contract.”

“Oh, good lord Severus!”

“Not him. My boss put it in.”

“He sounds positively medieval,” said Hermione. She was about to turn off her lamp when Guido sat on the edge of the bed. “What now?”

Guido waved a letter. “I must read some letters to you. I saved one from the fire. Just one and I can check off that required task.”

“Fine. Get on with it.” She flipped to her side facing away from the phantasm.

Guido began to read softly.

 

_Hermione,_

_I'm not one for the romantic drivel that woman want. But here are some words I found that express what is in my heart far better than I could ever say._

_Non dimenticar means don't forget you are my darling_

_Don't forget to be_

_All you mean to me_

_Non dimenticar my love is like a star, my darling_

_Shining bright and clear_

_Just because you're here_

_Please do not forget that our lips have met_

_And I've held you tight, dear_

_Was it dreams ago my heart felt this glow?_

_Or only just tonight, dear?_

_Non dimenticar although you travel far, my darling_

_It's my heart you own, so I'll wait alone_

_Non dimenticar_

_Come back,_

_Severus_

Guido shook his head. “That was unexpected.”

“What was?” asked Hermione.

“The old-fashioned sentimentality of it. It’s an old muggle song. Italian love song I think.”

“Romantic not sentimental.”

“Whatever. Love is blind and deaf.” Guido perused his task list. “Hermione, can I do my second time of the Seven Virtues then the last in the morning? Or do you prefer the last two tomorrow instead?”

Automatically, she cast a soundproof spell and reached for her pillow. It was the next best alternative to the real thing. “Get the last two over with right now.”

“Are you sure after the first time and you-“

“NOW!” insisted Hermione as she spooned against her pillow.

“The one in the morning could be a special-“

“Nope! I want it done and done! And you to leave me alone!”

* * *

Thursday Midnight at the Daily Prophet office

The auto quill finally stopped after dotting the last period. Over Rita's shoulder, Angus read the draft carefully. "This is going to sell a lot of papers in the morning, Rita. Are you sure about your source? A hundred galleons is a lot to pay."

"Absolutely! He's a complete professional,” Rita replied. "The headline needs work though."

"What have we got to work with so far?"

"Miranda's Heartache - The Other Woman," Rita said. "Or how about ‘That Granger Mystique’ or ‘Heroine or Home Wrecker’?”

"Let's put the story to bed. We'll toss a coin in the morning and pick a title that way,” said Angus straightening up and stretching. "I don't know how you do it, Rita, but one of these days your luck is going to run out."

"Angus, when you're this good, who needs luck?" Rita beamed at her faithful editor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something must be done about Rita. Who is her source? Will Hermione's least favorite person get her just desserts in the end? Any requests?


	12. Virtue

After the third and last recitation of Snape’s virtues, Guido had left Hermione in peace. 

Hermione lay in bed remembering, well, everything. She snuggled into her pillow and closed her eyes.

She’d put Severus out of her mind tomorrow. She thought back to the night she had impishly mentioned her preference for Snape Virtue Number Seven.

* * *

Slow, methodical and devious lovemaking leaves an indelible imprint both on the flesh and on the mind. Tonight, by candlelight, her lover chose to leave his mark on her willing body but not with his own flesh. Instead, he chose a simple, unpretentious scarf. One end of the scarf was curled securely around his hand. The opposite tip he let fall to hover above her body.

The silky scarf made its lazy way sinuously over her bare skin mimicking the same patterns that his fingers had traced not too long ago. One corner, one tip touched her skin just close enough to be felt yet so tantalizingly light as to leave her skin craving, arching to get closer. Her eyes followed the scarf's journey across her body. She had been instructed to stay still but the effort was costing her dearly. She tried to stay still but her body had long surrendered to the sensual lure.

Keeping his gaze on Hermione's face, Severus drew the scarf down the valley between her breasts with infinitesimal patience. As he repeated the journey upwards and downwards again, he bent down to feast on one taut nipple. Their bodies touched in no other place save for where his mouth met her breast. Her mind screamed to be touched more, everywhere, all at once. He felt her chest rise and fall rapid and shallow. He slid the scarf lower. As he did so, he bit down on her nipple - not hard enough to leave teeth marks but still sharp and sudden. Her body twitched and her breathing regressed to urgent, frantic panting. He blew on her nipple and sat back up to watch her. Perspiration was just starting to dampen her skin.

"Any special requests, Hermione?" Severus crooned. Severus brought the scarf lower tracing ever-narrowing circles around her navel.

Hermione took a deep breath before saying "Number seven, I need number seven."

"Need? I would think that three times tonight would be sufficient." Severus stooped to kiss her deeply. After reveling in her mouth, he dropped kisses on her forehead and nose then returned to feast on her lips once again.

After a long heady kiss, Hermione moaned unable to ignore the sensations from her belly. She gasped out "Think about it as making up for lost … lost time, Severus."

"I'm going to have a sore neck in the morning." Severus began to trail kisses and licks across her collarbone. He dropped the scarf on her belly and slid his hands between her legs.

"Take it out on your students then!" Hermione gasped again as Severus found her pleasure points with familiar ease. "Just do it, please!"

His mouth traveled down from her collarbone to her belly while one hand caressed her breast. All the while, he fingers stroked and circled her overeager petals down below. "Addiction is never a good thing. You may not be able to sit down tomorrow."

"That's a chance I'm more than willing to take." Her hand traveled up and down his bare back relearning his body once again. Their nights together were rare. She was not about to let the evening go to waste.

Without saying a word, Severus lifted her hips and placed a small pillow underneath her. She parted her legs sliding them over his shoulders tensing in anticipation. She never knew how he would start - a quick slash, a hard thrust or a playful meandering. What would it be tonight?

He did something completely different. He did not attack nor did he play right away. Instead, he played coy. He nuzzled her inner thighs. His tongue traced a circle of near unbearable sensation around her contours. His hands were never still. They cupped her calves, glided through under her knees before gently moving upwards. Hermione kept her silence knowing that begging would do nothing to hurry him.

Lapping and stropping was all right for most men, however, Severus being the man that he was found that combination wholly insufficient. He preferred to pay his most ardent attentions on the heart of the flower. He fingers parted her petals in the shape of an inverted letter V laying the heart open and vulnerable.

His tongue darted out jabbing hard at her feminine center awakening her desire. This he followed with quicksilver flicks to titillate and tease. Jab, flick, flick, flick, jab again over and over. Hermione's back arched. Her hand flew to his head and stroked that wonderful head. But she was waiting, still waiting for more. He teased her for a little while longer before he began to suck and blow. Hermione pressed his head lower trying to hurry him.

"Please, please, seven, seven, now." Hermione pleaded with him. Despite her promise to stay still she could not help herself. Her hips undulated. Her back arched again and again. His talented tongue dove and danced inside her without pause or mercy. "I need to- "

Her voice became one keening moan of pleasure as Severus slid two fingers inside. First up to the knuckles then deeper, slow then fast then slow again alternately plunging and withdrawing in time to his tongue's rousing caresses. Her surrender overtook his own need - a need that pressed urgently against his belly.

Her entire universe was centered in one place and in the man giving her pleasure. She was so close, so close. She couldn't feel her knees and legs anymore. Her body was slick with sweat while below he flicked his tongue faster still. Her desire and arousal spiraled higher but she knew the fall would be a passing heaven, but heaven still. For him, her surrender overtook his own need -a need that pressed urgently against his belly. He sucked longer and harder than ever. His fingers visited her pleasure places again and again.

Unable to withstand the onslaught anymore, she stiffened and then fell headlong in rush of sensation. He looked up needing to see her face while she took her pleasure. Slowly she regained her senses and she smiled at him. One of these days, number seven was going to be the death of her!


	13. Enlightenment

Friday at dawn

Albus had tried to apologize for whatever he had done the previous night but his normally placid and dependable headmistress was not acknowledging his existence. After a night of tossing and turning, here he was at dawn in Severus' office.

"What has gotten into her? Severus, were you in my place, how would you handle her?" Dumbledore mused out loud. He stood by the fireplace gazing into the fire.

"Care, respect, dragon-hide gloves." Severus remarked under his breath. He was writing notes on a piece of long parchment at his desk.

"Did I say something wrong at dinner last night? I've thought and thought over every word I said,” Dumbledore said. "What does she want me to do?"

Severus mumbled under his breath. "Anticipate her wishes. Read her mind."

"Exactly! Why can't a woman just tell a man what's bothering her?"

"Hmm, not romantic enough," Severus crossed out an entire entry.

"Romantic? Severus, she's my colleague and one of my best and oldest friends."

"Just like any other woman, no matter what she says." Severus peered closely at his parchment. "Am I missing anything?"

"True, a magnificent one, too. So, you think she's thinking along lines of the heart, Severus, after all this time?"

"What else is there?" Severus made some more notations.

“I’ve always been careful to not mix - well, ahem, hmm." Dumbledore paused grateful that Severus could not see his face just at that moment. "I suppose if she is inclined, I ought to explore the situation further. This sort of thing is always so awkward. How should I start?"

"Fresh flowers, long walks, sincere heart to heart talks," Severus said reading off his list.

"Yes, not too fast. I need to sound her out first. That might just work, thank you, Severus," Dumbledore left in a great hurry.

After a full minute of silence, Severus raised his head from his To Do list. "Were you saying something, Albus? Albus?"

Severus shook his head and went back to perusing his list.

Wolf: You plan on changing yourself just so she takes you back, eh?

Gent: What harm could it do if the boy was more romantic, caring and -

Wolf: Enslaves his will to her whims!

Prat: Whatever it takes!

Wolf: The bird's not coming back! She's made that very clear.

Gent: Look at that list, Wolf. Each day we will to do at least one thing on that list to show her how we feel. She is going to come back because we will show her how much she would be cherished and loved.

Prat: Isn't that what anyone wants, man or woman?

Wolf: Loved? Love? When did this happen?

Prat: Sorry, your vote didn't count. Your raging jealousy got us in this mess.

Wolf: Weren't you the one who reduced him to a potion-swilling poet idiot, Prat?!

Prat: Your problem, Wolf, is that you’re too lazy to put any effort into a relationship. I know a good thing when I see it and I'm going to get it back.

Wolf: She's not coming back I tell you. You're deluding yourself.

Gent: Oh, she'll be back. Guido has already read his assigned document three times. That’s made her susceptible.

Prat: That embedded spell was sneaky, Gent.

Wolf: What have you two been doing when my back's turned - potions, romantic music, relationship books. Now a spell?!

Gent: Just two little charms. The first was to soften her three different ways. The second was a variation on the Non Dimenticar charm to compel her to remember the best of times we had.

Wolf: Devious.

Prat: Honest.

Gent: Strategic.

Wolf: It's manipulative. I applaud you. You're learning things my way at last.

Prat: It's not like that. Severus just wants to talk to her. After their talk, the charms dissolve.

Gent: Wolf, please, a gentleman does not resort to subterfuge. However, there is nothing that says a gentleman cannot take measures to insure that the outcome is to his favor. Nothing at all.

Wolf: You say tomatoe and I say tomato.

* * *

Over a late breakfast, Hermione stared in shock at the headline of the Daily Prophet’s weekend edition - "Harlot and Heartbreaker" by Rita Skeeter. Numb, she could barely make out the words. Rita was thorough in detailing Hermione's past liaisons with Victor, Harry, Ron and now Severus.

From the other room, she could hear shouts and insults as Grace and Madeline defused howlers intended for Hermione. Her roommates came back wands smoking.

"What hypocrites!" Madeline fumed. "They should just mind their own business.

THUD!

An owl hovered outside the closed window. It held a large howler in its talons. Madeline let the owl through.

The howler exploded: YOU SHAMELESS HUSSY! YOU GIVE ALL WITCHES A BAD NAME! GO BACK TO THE MUGGLE WORLD!

Grace was visibly upset. "I'm so sorry, Hermione. This is all my fault. I shouldn't have asked you to go with-"

"No, no, Grace. It's not your fault." Hermione stood up. She eyed Guido suspiciously. 

“Did you really shag Krum?" asked Madeline.

“To my mind, there's only one person at fault,” said Hermione.

"No, not Severus. Come on, Hermione, the letters, the gifts. If any man did all this for me I'd take him back in a heartbeat,” Madeline said.

"That's exactly what he was thinking and planning." At those two last words, Hermione shot a hard look at Guido. "Isn't that right, Guido."

"I just do what I'm told. It's in my-"

"Yes, yes, in your contract. Tell us something we don't know!" said Grace.

Hermione studied Guido. “You HAVE to do whatever it says in a contract, don’t you?”

Guido nodded.

“Any limits?”

Guido hemmed and hawed. “My boss doesn’t like bodily harm coming to either party. No permanent damage to property. No hospitalizations at St. Mungo’s. No dark arts.”

At the words ‘dark arts’ Hermione’s eyes widened. “Can you do spells and charms?”

“I, myself, cannot cast any magic at my client or my subject.”

"Let's see this contract,” said Grace.

“Sorry. All contracts are confidential,” replied Guido.

“Hermione is involved so she has to be able to see it,” argued Grace.

“Nope.”

“Never mind, Grace. There’s only one thing to do.”

“You’re taking Severus back? YES!” shouted Madeline.

Hermione moved to stand away from the table. "I'm going to get it from the horse's mouth. It's time this was settled once and for all."

Hermione apparated. After a minute Guido was compelled to follow.

Destination: Hogwarts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think we're reaching the climax point.


	14. Mayhem

The scene playing out in the Great Hall was nothing short of horrific. A smoky haze permeated the room obscuring the enchanted ceiling. Ash, soot and a few feathers rained down on the house tables. House elves ducked and weaved their way around trying to avoid immolation while getting things done. Owls crashed headlong into tables or walls as they suddenly found their packages aflame mid-flight. Some students heeded the call of self-preservation and wisely ate their breakfasts under cover of their table. A few students who still had their Prophets were hunkered under their house tables passing the paper among themselves.

Through all this mayhem, the Slytherins were taking bets and odds on their head of house. And why not, Professor Snape was putting on quite a show of marksmanship.

"That's twenty-five in the last ten minutes!" shouted Blaize Zabini frantically trying to keep a tally. The table shouted out the count every time their head of house made a hit.

Snape spotted a target. He took aim. He fired. "Incendio Prophet."

The targeted post owl dropped a copy of the Daily Prophet down to the outstretched hand of one from his house. The paper incinerated in midair.

"Twenty-six!" roared the Slytherins.

Severus turned to his right barely catching another owl delivering the same paper in the vicinity of the Gryffindor table. "Incendio Prophet." The owl screeched indignantly and flew off not bothering to collect their normal delivery fee.

"Twenty-seven!"

At the High Table several teachers who still had their copy of the Daily Prophet were busy reading over each other's shoulders. Harry sat next to Snape and was also reading the salacious article. The students were craning their necks and looking about waiting for the next owl to arrive. Plumes of smoke could be seen rising steadily from the tip of the potions master's wand.

"Twenty-eight!"

"Albus, put a stop to this before we lose an owl or a student!" exclaimed Minerva McGonagall.

"Twenty-nine!"

Dumbledore took a drink of pumpkin juice before turning to his deputy headmistress. "Did you like the flowers, Minerva? I found them while on my walk around the lake this morning.”

"Thirty!" The count now resounded from all the house tables.

Caught by surprise, Minerva said rather automatically, “They were lovely. Thank you.”

Dumbledore surveying the unfolding carnage. “Well, nothing wrong with the students’ reflexes or survival instincts."

Minerva got to her feet. “Students! Please, do not attempt to get a Prophet. Stay away from—”

There by the massive doors stood Hermione Granger. With regal grace, she made her way up the center aisle towards the high table. Behind her glided Guido who waved and handed out his business card.

"Guido St. John, phantasm actor. I'm union and certifiable. I did the Late, Late Show three times last year,” said Guido.

"Thirty-one!"

"It's her! The one in the paper - Hermione Granger,” said a Ravenclaw.

"I do imitations dead on. I do role-playing too for consenting adults. Tell your parents. I'm great at parties!"

"Thirty-two!"

“I’m fit to purpose for interviews. For audio work, I’m known as the Phantasm of a Thousand Voices,” said Guido.

"So it's true! Oh my god, he … she… they've touched!" came from a Hufflepuff. “Yech!”

“I give discounts for multiple bookings. Did I mention I’m a terrific vocal impersonator - Tom Jones, David Bowie and Elton. I’m told my Ed Sheeran is to die for. You should see my Shirley Bassey frocks,” said Guido. “And I’m part of a group so the Spice Girls or One Direction is doable. Keep me in mind!”

Severus had missed her grand entrance. He had been busy scanning the ceiling for more owls. Now, midway up the aisle, he saw her approaching. Her face was alight with righteous indignation and determination. He had never seen her look more beautiful. She rounded the end of the high table her strides long and steady.

Guido caught sight of Harry. "Hi, boss. What are you doing here?"

Harry stood up so suddenly that his chair fell to the floor with a loud bang. One hand reached for his wand. "Say goodbye to your bonus, Guido."

"You're the boss? HIS BOSS?!" Hermione beat Harry to the draw and trained her wand on him. "Do you know what he's been doing to ME?!”

"Well, of course, I drew up the contract." Harry realized he was taking the wrong approached and raised his arms in front of him in supplication. "I mean … I mean that I had no choice! The headmaster asked me to help."

Hermione's face was unyielding and the cold glint of her eyes convinced him that she was not in the right frame of mind to be reasoned with.

Harry continued to dig himself into a hole. “He twinkles like he does and I nod my head. How could I say no?”

Hermione ranted on. “So you've defeated Voldemort, saved the world and now you take to renting out half-baked, would be Cyrano de Bergeracs!?"

"Why thank you, Hermione, that's the best thing anyone has ever said about me. I'm touched!" said Guido.

"It's the family business, Hermione. I found out fifth year when I found out about the Order thing. Where do you think my inheritance came from?" Harry explained further. "I've been learning the business this past year. I've got an A List and a B List of talents. Whatever you want, it's on me."

"Hermione, can I quote you on that?" Guido asked.

"You've quoted too much as it is, Guido. Don't even try to deny it!" Hermione's words hissed out of her clenched teeth.

Guido stepped a respectful distance away.

Her wand remained locked on Harry. "With a friend like you, I don't need Rita Skeeter!"

"Come on, Hermione, I'm sorry. You weren't talking to Severus. We thought that--" Harry flinched as a beam of light from Hermione's wand hit him square on the chest. Harry's vision blurred for a few seconds. His throatfelt tight.

In the next blink of the eye, where Harry Potter had stood was a man-sized pigeon with red and gold plumage no less. Harry flapped his wings uselessly. "Squawk! Squawk!"

Severus had remained seated observing all that was playing out in front of him. Now, upon hearing Hermione's words, he stood up and whirled on Guido. "Yes, yes, the details in the Prophet could only have come from you. Got a bit greedy, did you, you gutless traitor?"

“It wasn't me. Not … not entirely, professor, sir," said Guido defensively. "I didn't tell Skeeter any of the really good stuff like Snape Virtue Number Seven. I had to recoup my earnings from the job I was pulled from to do this one. Acting isn't steady work and—”

"It's not his fault. He was just doing his job,” said Hermione. "He was following your instructions to the letter."

"Yes, listen to her. She's absolutely right." Guido sidled to stand closer to Hermione and slightly behind her.

Snape advanced towards them. Hermione held her ground.

Severus began to say, “Hermione, we need to talk. There's so much I want to—”

"Yes, there's so much I need to say, too, Severus." Hermione smiled beguilingly. "First things first. I want to add an addendum to Guido's contract."

Prat: She called us Severus not Swine. She's going to give us another chance. Yes!.

Gent: Steady, steady, men, we're not out of the deep water yet. Do I sense a thawing in the glacier?

Wolf: Ah, something about that smile worries me.

Severus waved his wand and a small scroll appeared in front of him. He grabbed it and gave it to Hermione. She conjured a quill and began to write on the contract.

"Wait, wait, you can't add an addendum now!" Guido cried out.

"Can't I?" Hermione shot Harry a piercing look. Harry the pigeon nodded his head silently.

"But … but that's highly irregular,” Guido protested. "Boss, union rules apply! The last Geneva accords said that it was—"

"The rules never really applied to the three of us, did they, Harry?" Hermione pointed her wand at him. In a burst of light, he changed back to normal. "I want this addendum and I will have it. What will it be?"

"Anything you want. On the house." Harry replied.

He watched as Hermione signed her name on the contract. She handed the contract to him.

Harry read it quickly and his face grew red. It was a full minute before he exhaled. "Guido, the addendum states that the expiration date of this contract has been removed. You need only do one thing to gain your immediate release from further contractual obligations. Listen carefully. You must talk to the Hogwarts house elves and convince at least one of them to wear clothes permanently. You will offer appropriate clothes to them. Dobby and Winky do not count. Only then, after the one, will you be released."

"Is that all? Just one elf? You made it sound so dramatic. I could talk a monkey out of its tree,” Guido boasted.

"Guido, I tried to do that very same thing and failed," said Hermione with a faint smile on her lips. "I'm sure that you with your superior powers of persuasion will succeed where I failed."

"I will be out of here in no time at all,” said Guido. "The sooner started the sooner ended. Where do I find these elves?"

"The kitchens," Professor McGonagall supplied helpfully. "Sir Nicholas, would you be so kind as to escort Mr. St. John to the kitchens."

The Gryffindor ghost bowed and led Guido out of the hall and to the kitchens.

Hermione now turned her attentions to Severus. She traced a line along his jaw line with her hand. "Headmaster, could you assign a substitute teacher for potions today? Severus won't be able to make it to class."

"Of course, Hermione,” said Dumbledore. “I’ll teach his class. The change will be good for the students.”

"Thank you, headmaster." Hermione nodded at Dumbledore then turned back to Snape. "What am I going to do with you, professor?"

"Anything you want, Ms. Granger,” Severus murmured. His voice was meant for her ears alone.

Hermione’s eyes flashed. ”In that case, you, me, dungeons, now!"

Hermione and Severus departed for the dungeons amid hoots, whispers and many comments trailing in their wake.

Prat: What exactly do I want to say? It must be exactly right. No mistakes now.

Wolf: This does not feel right. Is this what nervous feels like?

Gent: She does seem to be in vengeful mood, doesn't she?

Prat: I love you. Never leave me again. I promise to communicate and be less possessive.

Wolf: Look what she did to Potter!

Gent: Guido's fate does not bear thinking about. He may well still be here past the next millennium.

Prat: I was an idiot. All I can say is I—

Wolf: Will you stop burbling on and on, Prat!

Gent: Keep alert. Methinks our Ms. Granger is not what she seems.

Prat: This may be our last chance. Say yes to ANYTHING she wants. Anything!


	15. Endings

The dry coolness against her back was a balm to the searing tempest within her heart. In Severus’ private office, her lips and fingers grasped and caressed with wild abandon. This was the lover she had so long denied. She sought to remember many things - the feel of his lips on hers, the scorching touch of his hands and the sound of his voice murmuring her name again and again. Her hunger could easily have been mistaken for passion.  
  
However, passion was the furthest thing from Hermione's mind. She had a plan and everything she’d done since arriving at Hogwarts was in service to that plan. If the plan failed, there was no Plan B. If it succeeded, she wasn’t sure what she would do. For the moment, it seemed to her that the plan was bearing fruit. She was feeling less foggy-headed by the minute.  
  
Should she press on? Why not! Hermione broke the kiss and leaned back exposing her neck. His lips left a fiery trail on her soft flesh before returning to her lips.  
  
Hermione could feel her hunger abating; her erratic mood subsiding to a calmer state. She placed her palms flat against his chest. Savagely she nipped his lower lip. Before he could respond in kind she tore her lips away.

She gazed hard at the dungeon ceiling as she took several deep breaths. Severus laid his head on her shoulder content with just holding her again. For a few minutes there were no other sounds except for their labored breathing.  
  
From some wellspring of strength within her, Hermione did the one thing she had never thought herself capable of. She pushed him away. Hard.  
  
“What’s wrong?” asked Severus.

Hermione exclaimed, “I’m just me again. The compulsion spell's gone.”

“Compulsion spell?”

“Did you think I wouldn’t know?”

“It wasn’t meant to be noticeable.”

“It was. Guido is far from subtle.” She moved away from him. “I wasn’t sure what would work to cancel it out. I thought … thought sex was required but it wasn’t.”

“Well, it wouldn’t be amiss if we--“

“No, Severus.”

“No?”

She ran her fingers through her long hair and shook her head as if ridding herself of a troublesome pest. “You're out of my system once and for all.”

Severus looked at her closely shifting from surprise to suspicion and back again. Hermione had caught him by surprise earlier. As soon as they had entered his office, she had wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close for a kiss. Not wanting to lose any opportunity to make up for lost time, he had pressed her against the wall and ravaged her in return.  
  
The unnervingly cold woman now standing before him bore no resemblance to the passionate woman he had held in his arms just moments ago. Hands on hips, Severus rounded on her. "What are you saying?"

"You heard me,” snapped Hermione. “Guido was annoying but compelling someone to behave and think against their will is illegal. I should report it but I won’t. Why did you go to such extremes?”

“As I recall, someone was not speaking to me," Severus took a deep breath. Sarcasm would not be welcome. He tried to sound reasonable. "Am I a man to give up easily? Something had to be done."

“I admit the personal shield was a bit much but I won’t apologize for it. I don’t expect an apology for Guido, the spells or anything else. What’s done is done,” said Hermione. “I came here to be rid of the compulsion and the owls and Guido and to … to discuss this as adults.”

“I agree wholeheartedly.”

“Good.” Hermione was frantically thinking of what to do next. Plan A Be Rid of the Compulsion was complete. Now what? Where was a Plan C when you needed one?

Severus said quietly, "Whatever I've done, I've done for you. I only wanted to prove to you that you are my sun, my moon and all things in between. Have I pushed too hard? Presumed too much? Tell me."  
  
Hermione remained silent for too long. The maelstrom of emotions within her began to settle into something that made sense to her.

Severus waited her out. This was too important to rush.

“I presumed, too,” said Hermione. “I was hopelessly infatuated with you, utterly hopeless. It's the classic younger woman older man pitfall. You were my first time and my first real relationship. It was pitiful really. I was so desperate and you were so accommodating. We were both lonely in our own way. When I have a daughter someday, I would hope that her first time is just as sweet and fulfilling."

"Our daughter will not even date until she's thirty if I have any say in it." Severus stood rooted to the spot.

“I think any daughter of mine can think for herself.” Hermione decided that brutal honesty was best. “I’ll always be grateful for what we had and--“

“Had? You’re ending … ending us?” asked Severus.

“There are only two options. Either we go back to how things were or we don’t.”

“We had a misunderstanding, Hermione. That’s all it was,” said Severus.  
  
“After the theater, I felt judged and belittled. You hurt me, Severus,” said Hermione. “The worse part is that I could tell you intended to. Once the consequence was gone, I suppose the rose-colored glasses came off. Do you see what I mean?”

Severus nodded. “I let my anger get the best of me. I’m sorry for that.”

“I knew you had to be cruel during the war. I was naive to think that that side of you was all an act. It’s not, is it?”

“Anyone is capable of cruelty and of kindness,” said Severus. “I can be sarcastic and angry, yes, but never intentionally cruel.”

“There’s being devious and then there’s you - ruthlessly manipulative with a healthy dash of arrogance,” added Hermione. “The spell, the gifts and Guido are proof of that side of you. It’s true what they say. The ones you love hurt you the most.”

Severus said in a rush of words “We can begin again. We can … you love me?”

Hermione said flatly, “Yes, I do.”

Severus could feel the tightness in his chest ease. “Then we can put this mess behind us and be what we were before.”

“Severus, I love you but no. Obviously, you haven’t been listening to anything I’ve said.”

Snape could feel the ground beneath him shaking. A horrible realization came to him. Had he gone too far and pushed her beyond tolerance. “Have your feelings changed now that the compulsion is gone?”

“Yes. I had this idealized version of you in my head. At the beginning, there was attraction and fascination. We helped each other get through the war. We had our … our interludes. They were exciting and passionate. The consequence made things feel so exciting and exclusive,” said Hermione. “It’s the stuff of any woman’s ideal relationship.”

“I was happy. I thought you were, too.”

“Before the theater, I was giddy with happiness. Now, I’m just sad. I never really knew you - the real you.” Hermione drew a deep breath. “I feel that we would be worse for each other not better in the long run. For our own good, Severus, we need to end our relationship. I hope in time that we can be friends.”

Severus asked quietly, “I’ve lost your trust haven’t I?”

Hermione nodded. “Kindly call back the owls. There's no need for them anymore. Truly." She opened the office door and stepped out leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Gent: She's possessed. That's the only explanation.

Wolf: Good riddance!

Prat: Shut up and go after her already. Move!  
  
Gent: What ought we do?

Prat: Anything! Just stop her from leaving!

Gent: Think! Give me a moment to think.

Prat: You have nanoseconds.

Wolf: There are other witches out--

Prat: Not for us.  
  
Gent: QUIET! I’m thinking!

Snape ran out of his office. He caught up with her before she reached the stairs.

Touching her arm, Snape said, “Hermione, may I ask a favor?”

Hermione hesitated, “Well, I don’t--“

“One favor and I will never ask for another."

"Allow me a chance to show you who and what I am. Let me reveal myself - my heart, body, mind and soul,” said Severus.

“You’ve been quite demonstrative already.”

“I don’t mean owls and gifts. Those were … were methods to persuade and … and manipulate you,” said Severus. “This time there will be no subterfuge. It will be the truth and nothing else. One chance is all I’m asking for.”

Hermione relented. “"No using my friends and acquaintances. No violation of Wizarding law. No stand-ins like Guido in any form. No gifts."

"I agree," said Severus. "Is that a yes?"

"Yes to one chance,” said Hermione. "Afterwards, we part friends."

Severus gritted his teeth and managed to nod. “Expect a package from me within the week. We should return to the hall and keep up appearances.”

Hermione ascended the stairs beside the potions master. “And what do I do with this package?”

Wolf: Keep it for future blackmail material.

Prat: What are we sending her?

Gent: YES, YES. I have it!

Severus cleared his throat. “It should be self-explanatory.”

Prat: It will?

Wolf: It’s not right that you’re this excited, Gent.

Gent: I can hardly do worse that the two of you. It’s the PERFECT solution!  
  
Prat: And it will work?

Gent: This is not about securing a desired result. It must be about truth and plainly so.

Wolf: Meaning no fun for me.

Prat: What do you want me to do, Gent?

Gent: I must think further on the details. Do not fret. There shall be a role for all of us. Who else knows the boy better than us?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have previously read this story on FFN, you'll start seeing differences in the plot from here on in. Anyone have a betting pool on Guido's task? Poor thing.
> 
> Happy Reading!


	16. Waiting

Day One passed with no word from Severus. No note, no flowers, no small gifts. She had exams to occupy her.

The second day still nothing. A class project consumed her. It was near midnight before she collapsed into bed.

The third day proved equally uneventful. The middle of the week ennui had yet to set in. She was tutoring two students in Advanced Transfiguration. They were not dunderheads but they did need much handholding and encouragement.

The fourth day found Hermione glancing more frequently than usual at windows. Waiting for something she knew not what. She toyed with her dinner.

By the fifth day, a peculiar restlessness had taken possession of her body. She simply could not stay still. Even a session in the library had failed to soothe her volatile temperament. Occasionally piercing her inner composure was the thought that Severus had changed his mind.

Hermione prowled the apartment like a caged tiger on the sixth day. She paced in front of the now permanently open balcony doors. Several times she took up quill and parchment to write to Severus and each time she held back. Instead, she wrote a letter to Arthur Weasley about an unregistered animagus by the name of Rita Skeeter.

The stars twinkled in the sky when Hermione announced to her friends, "He's doing this on purpose."

"Oh, yes, he can just go to Diagon Alley and pick up a heart, a mind, a body and a soul." Madeline lay on her stomach on the sofa watching Hermione pace. “Nothing to it."

"Don't be ridiculous!"  
  
"Well, it might have been easier to move the sun and the moon for you,” Grace commented from the kitchen.  
  
"What was I supposed to do? Just throw myself at him and say all is forgiven?"

"Gods, yes!" Madeline answered.

Grace began, “He went overboard on a few things but--”

Madeline gave Hermione a sharp look. “What were you thinking giving him an ultimatum the way you did?”

Hermione protested, “I did no such thing!”

“Madeline, Severus did ask for one chance,” said Grace. “She’s given him that. So, it’s not all Hermione’s fault.”

“Thank you, Grace,” said Hermione.

Grace concluded with, “It took both of them to create something this horribly convoluted and emotionally messy.”

“Et tu, Grace? We’ve talked about this for the last time. I’m going to bed. Good night!” Hermione was walking towards her bedroom when she heard the beating of large wings.  
  
A Hogwarts owl swooped in. Hermione turned and stood transfixed watching the owl glide in and land on the couch. The owl held out his leg. With shaking hands, Hermione removed the small parchment and unrolled it.  
  
Grace and Madeline held their breaths watching Hermione's facial expression closely. Hermione ripped the parchment in two and set the pieces on fire with a quick flick of her wand. Hermione stomped off to her bedroom and slammed the door behind her.

Grace groaned, "Not another note from Guido!"

"I really do feel sorry for him. He's in an impossible situation." Madeline stood up and stretched. “It’s only nine. Want to go down to the pub?"  
  
"Might as well." Grace put on her cloak. "Madeline, what's going to happen tomorrow? What if nothing happens."

"Something will definitely happen, Grace. Question is when."  
  
"How can you be so sure?"

"Because, roommate of mine, I am a hopeless romantic!" The two girls left the apartment. Tomorrow would come soon enough.

* * *

  
The next morning right after breakfast two large tawny owls carried in a large package carefully balanced inside a basket. Hermione peered at it with tired, red-rimmed eyes. She sat frozen not believing what she was seeing.

Madeline carried the package into Hermione's bedroom. Grace tapped Hermione on the shoulder gently but firmly chivvied Hermione into her own bedroom. With the package on the bed and Hermione beside it, Madeline and Grace left her to her privacy.  
  
Hermione shed a few tears out of sheer relief. Carefully, layer by layer, she unwrapped the package. Inside was a pensieve. There was a small note attached.  
  
It read: _Hermione, you hold in your hands my body, my mind and my heart. Be the judge of what they reflect of my true self. Severus._  
  
Hermione swirled her wand inside the pensieve. Soon she felt the familiar rush as the pensieve pulled her consciousness into its depths. She found herself standing in the shadows of a spotlight dimness all around her.  
  
She heard footsteps approaching from different directions. She waited expectantly.  
  
Severus' sensual voice drawled, coming closer. "You grace our presence at last."  
  
From her left emerged Severus dressed in his typical teaching robes. "Before we commence with Severus' pensieve, we thought we would introduce ourselves. By the way, the dear boy has no idea we added ourselves to his pensieve. Please don't hold this against him. You may call me Gent."  
  
Hermione barely registered what Mr. Professor Voice was saying. She was far too distracted by the Severus that materialized in front of her in a white open-necked shirt and black leather pants. Mr. Sensual Voice stood before her with his arms crossed giving her a cool once over. "You've called me many things, lovely one, but I prefer to go by the name of Wolf."

A small touch on her right shoulder made her turn. A shyly smiling Severus stood next to her. He was in the same outfit - dark pants and cashmere sweater- as on the night he called her bluff. Compared to the other two, this one looked decades younger, more innocent. "Welcome, my love." This voice was gentle, soothing. He raised her hand to his lips and planted a simple, chaste kiss. "I'm Prat."

Overwhelmed, Hermione could only look back and forth among the three. "Who are you?"

Prat let go of her hand and stepped back. Gent stepped forward. "We are facets of Severus' personality. He calls us his Board."

"Something like his conscience?"  
  
"Oh, no, no, Ms. Granger. We are far baser, more primitive, than that weak and persistently useless entity. We represent Severus' motivations, needs, drives and impulses."  
  
“His instincts?”

“More than that,” said Gent.

“What are you exactly? I’ve never read about anything like you. Are you split personalities?”

Gent shook his head. “We are quite sane and belong only to one personality. As to our nature, we simply are what we are. We came to exist as tools to help Severus in his dealings with Voldemort and the Deatheaters. When cool intellect and detachment was required, I came to the fore. When subservience was vital to survival, Prat came into service. Wolf channelled raw disruptive emotions into less destructive actions. Over time, we became stronger and ever-present.”

“What do you want with me?" asked Hermione.

"We want to apologize,” implored Prat.

"We need to explain,” said Wolf.  
  
Gent raised his voice a little to drown out the other two. "We are here to clarify and correct misunderstandings and to escort you through Severus' memories. We would hate to have anything be taken out of context, Ms. Granger. We are fully versed of his intentions and therefore would be able to represent them in the proper light. Are you ready to begin?”  
  
Hermione said, “I suppose so. What do I have to lose?"

“You have only to gain, Ms. Granger,” said Gent. “Wolf, you will go first. Please escort her through the first passage. Remember the rules?”

Wolf said testily, “Yes, of course I remember them. Show her the full memory with no cuts or edits. Answer truthfully all and any questions she may have. No begging for forgiveness or leniency. No fawning either. Deliver the facts and only the facts."  
  
Wolf stepped forward. He took Hermione's hand and led her into the darkness.

"You think he'll behave?" Prat asked.

"I highly doubt it,” Gent answered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Place your bets! What is Hermione going to see and experience? Anyone want to see the Bard's Voice Potion at work again? How about the making of the pillow? Or maybe something that wasn't in the books but should have been?
> 
> And, what's happening with Guido? Inquiring minds want to know.


	17. Patterns

Honestly, all he has to do is show up in leather and all my resolve melts, Hermione thought to herself. She was following Wolf through a series of corridors. The further they went the dimmer the light became. A chill wind blew across Hermione's skin.

"Are we going to need a torch soon? And a coat?" asked Hermione.

"Just keep a hold of my hand, sweetling," said Wolf. "I shall keep you safe and as warm as you desire."

Sweetling? Why couldn't he be like this all the time? Hermione sighed and said aloud, "Where are we going, Mr. Wolf?"

"Not where but what." Wolf's long strides stopped abruptly.

In a playful mood, Hermione replied, "Somewhere cozy and very comfortable?"

"Only if this Wolf is very, very good," purred Wolf.

He certainly looked good to Hermione. He exuded health and a manly vitality that was calling to her on all channels.

"You're quite good already I don't know how you could improve."

"Gent and Prat don't think highly of me. They probably think we'll do ten percent memory watching and the rest of the time will be energetic shagging," said Wolf. "I wouldn't mind. Pensieve sex is supposed to be unforgettable and enlightening for all parties."

Hermione was gripped, truly gripped, by the urge to attempt to explore this new topic. "Really?! I've never heard of it."

"It's out of fashion because it requires raw magical compatibility not just discipline and technique," said Wolf.

"We're compatible magically?"

"Of course we are. Isn't that obvious?" Wolf realized Hermione's puzzlement was not feigned. "Muggle born, right. Forgot. Sorry. Though even the pure ones believe it outdated."

"Here is a condensed version. I suggest you ask Dumbledore for books on the topic of magical energy nexus. No library at a public university will have anything to do with the subject," said Wolf. "Every individual body creates energy that our bodies use everyday. Magical energy is a separate type of energy. Every magical person's energy differs by quantity, resonance, power and pattern. Doubtless, you have learned much on quantity, resonance and power from your Transfiguration and Arithmancy courses. There would be nothing on patterns."

Hermione nodded.

"In the distant past, when there were fewer of us, magical patterns were used to determine suitability for marriage. Individuals whose patterns matched or were in harmony together were guaranteed to produce magically sound offspring," said Wolf. "Patterns did not guarantee that the individuals could actually stand each other. It did lead to families with extremely strong magic. Where did you think the pureblood families came from?"

"As the magical population has increased, pattern matching went out of favor for obvious reasons. Teaching pattern recognition was outlawed by the Ministry as an easy way to end all previous laws that used pattern compatibility to force the unwilling into unwanted unions," said Wolf. "Occasionally, matching individuals would find themselves drawn to each other illogically, as is the case with you and Severus."

"Illogically?"

"Let me see. Student and teacher. Mature and quite young. Half-blood and muggle born. Severe introvert and mild extrovert. Death Eater and idealistic heroine. Slytherin and Gryffindor. Need I go on?"

"I get the point. In normal circumstance, Severus and I should not have been anywhere near other."

"Exactly. Where personalities change over time through experience and age, magical patterns do not. They are the same when we are born and when we die," said Wolf. "Individuals with complementary patterns experience shared activities with a higher level of intensity and excitement. However, their personalities may clash affecting the success of the experience."

The gears inside Hermione's head began to turn faster and faster. "Like playing a game? Or a relationship?"

"And couplings are more satisfying wouldn't you say?"

"You know they are," said Hermione.

"Having felt the intensity between you, could you imagine being satisfied feeling less with someone else?"

"I could but I wouldn't want to," said Hermione. "Harmonious patterns do not often make for smooth relationships especially when both parties have strong personalities. That's what you're leading up to, isn't it? We're not personally compatible because we are so different."

Wolf nodded. "And love does not conquer all."

"It's not enough, no," said Hermione. "You're right our personalities do get in the way. I'll try to change but it has to be both of us changing. I think Severus is too set in his ways to--"

"Don't be too hasty there," warned Wolf. "Tell me, Hermione, do you know what you mean to Severus? What you are to him?"

"The love of his life?" she answered glibly.

"That's what you and all witches would like and expect to hear. Where we are going will show you the truth." Wolf resumed his steady pace unhurried and unflagging.

Wolf's words set Hermione to thinking. "He's much older than me. I suppose it's naive to think that I'm his first love."

"Yes it is. No, you are not his first love," replied Wolf.

Crestfallen, Hermione could only say, "Oh."

"Gent and Prat will say that I only have one thing on my mind. They would be right most of the time," said Wolf. "But for Severus sex isn't complicated."

"He's very passionate."

"Just like every woman to attach an emotion to a purely physical act of expression," said Wolf. "There are days I curse the inventor of the greeting card. Do women really believe a few flowery words means more than an unexpected pat on the bum, a quick hug or squeeze of a hand?"

"Well, sometimes--"

"Women are planners. Men are not," said Wolf. "A woman wants a gesture to be elaborate and thought out. If a man is happy and wants to let his partner know it, he gives her a wink, a grin, a squeeze. Spontaneous and in the moment. That's it. No extra thinking required."

"Would it kill him to be romantic? Say a few words?"

"Could the female stop expecting romance to be how she wants it to be and nothing else? Let a man be a man I say." Wolf tugged at her hand and they were off once again.

The haze swallowed their forms. Time passed unnoticed. Hermione found herself face to face with a roughhewn wooden door. Tendrils of light escaped from the various cracks crisscrossing the door's uneven surface. If the door was ancient and fragile seeming, then its padlock was sturdy and gleaming with newness.

"Not what you were expecting. You did say that creativity gets extra points," Wolf smirked at her.

Hermione bit her lip eyeing the door nervously. "Which is this - body, mind or soul?"

"A little bit of everything I suppose. I shall leave the psychoanalysis to Gent. Every man has one of these doors. Within are all their secrets." Wolf ran a gentle hand over the door. "Secrets that they admit to only in their dreams, if they ever do."

"I already know about his past and--"

"No, Hermione, these things are not of his past. These are of his present, his future. As quite a bit of what's here is because of you, you have every right to know of it."

Wolf palmed the padlock. The lock creaked open slowly.

"Perhaps, after this, you'll understand him better. After you, my sweet."

Hermione braced herself for something horrific. She was momentarily blinded by light. The light ebbed gradually. Her vision cleared.

Before her was Severus' private work room. Untidy stacks of books lined one side of the long work table. On the far side a cauldron sat unused. In the middle of it all sat Severus. Bits of parchment littered the workspace in front of him. From the side, Hermione could see a vein pulsing on his temple. From her experience that never bode well. Seeing her memory pillow on top of the litter, Hermione stepped closer to look over Severus' shoulder. Needle in hand, he was painstakingly repairing the tear with the smallest stitches he could manage.

"Ow!" Severus dropped the wretched needle to suck on his punctured finger. "Perhaps a smaller needle would have been better."  
Hermione observed, "I forgot that pillow couldn't be repaired with magic."

"The dagger was a very good messenger,” said Wolf.

Severus stood up and stretched his arms out. He walked over to a cabinet, opened it and began rummaging through its contents. A minute later Severus flung a small box hard against a wall. Its contents spilled out unto the floor. He slammed the cabinet doors shut then leaned against it. His breathing was deep and labored.

"What in all the hells am I doing? This is ridiculous! She won't answer my letters. She won't let me near her. She won't listen to anything I say. How can I apologize if she keeps me at arms' length?”

Severus stalked back to the table and glared at the offending pillow. "Tell me, you, why am I trying so hard to fix something so irretrievably broken?"

He threw the pillow to the floor. With a swift kick, he sent the pillow flying across the room. He slumped down into his chair letting fatigue and frustration claim him. He rested his head on his arms.

Hermione opened her mouth to say something but Wolf quieted her by saying, "Keep watching."

She watched him unmoving for several minutes. Then he let out a dejected sigh. He stood up and walked over to where the pillow had landed. He looked down on it. "Not the dark lord nor all the dunderheads year in, year out, none of them could break me as you do."

He kneeled, picked it up gently in both hands and stood looking at it. "Weakness, my weakness, thy name is Hermione."

He examined his handiwork. Seeing that none of his new stitching had broken, he put the pillow back on the table.

"How do I make her understand that I can't let her go, not like this."

Absentmindedly, Severus began to straighten the stacks of books and parchments. As he did so, he read off some book titles - "Reading a Woman's Mind in 21 Easy Lessons", "What a Witch Needs Is Not What She Asks For" and "The 1001 Ways of Women."

His hand stopped on a worn copy of Cyrano de Bergerac. "Had I but such an interpreter to speak my soul. How do you woo when the object wants nothing to do with you?"

"The book said that we should court you. Show you how sorry we were, how much we wanted to you back,” Wolf answered. "We were frankly desperate."

Severus left Cyrano sitting on the table top. He continued to stack the books but his eyes would dart to Cyrano every now and then. With all the books neatly arranged, he went back to Cyrano. As he thumbed through the pages, an idea began to form in his mind. His lips lost their grim set. He nearly ran to his office. He returned with an ancient tome that he placed on the table.

Curious, Hermione looked on from the side as he leafed hurriedly through the book.

His fingers stopped moving. Hermione gasped as she saw the potion described on the page. "The Bard's Voice potion. That's one of the most horribly complex potions ever made. A hundred things could go wrong."

Hermione's eyes scanned lower on the page. "If the potion isn't aged exactly right, his vocal cords could be damaged permanently. Trevor would sound positively charming next to him. Hold on! Some of these ingredients are illegal in Britain. Tell me he didn't go through with it."

Wolf looked at Severus proudly. "When we put our mind to something, we get it done."

Severus continued to study the text intently while scribbling on a piece of parchment. His long hair hung loose partially obscuring his face. With a savage gesture, Severus pushed his hair back.

"I could listen to him for hours. How could he take such a chance?"

"In my opinion, he thinks with the wrong organ where you're concerned."

"I remember seeing some verses in some of the letters I burned. If I had known, I would never have ..." Her voice faded. Hermione reached out towards Severus. Her hand passed through his cheek.

"That prat, Prat, made him overdose you know."

"What?!"

"Prat didn't think the sonnets were romantic enough so he convinced Severus to take a double dose. It was almost triple if Gent hadn't gagged him."

"He could have ... have--" Hermione spluttered. An image of her strangling Prat came to mind.

"It turned out all right in the end." Wolf informed her. "And I did come up with some clever couplets about shagging. Pity that Severus had no time to use them."

"This is how he came up with Guido,” Hermione said matter-of-factly.

"After Severus woke up, Dumbledore forbade the use of the potion. As to using Guido, well, that was Potter's idea. Something about realism being preferable. His agent's fee was almost half a year's pay."

Hermione smiled at that tidbit. It was not a pleasant smile. "Thank you for telling me, Wolf. I think Harry and I are due for another chat."

"Can we be there when you talk to Potter?"

"You'll have a front row seat. Trust me."

Their attention returned to Severus briefly. He was now finishing his shopping list. He donned his traveling cloak and left the room.

As a mist enveloped them, Wolf intoned, "He's off to Knockturn Alley and so are we."


End file.
